UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA.  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  01526  7073 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Please  Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall. 

Date  Due     '  "^ 
APR  0  5  1994 
JAN  2  4  1994 


MAR  0  3  1994 


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BECAUSE   I   LOVE   YOU 


BECAUSE   I   LOVE  YOU 
l^oems;  of  Lobe 


SELECTED    AND    ARRANGED    BY 

ANNA   E.  MACK 


"  Love  is  too  precious  to  be  named 
Save  with  a  reverence  deep  and  high." 


LEE  AND   SHEPARD  Publishers 

lo   MILK    STREET 

BOSTON 


Copyright,  1894 
By  Lee  and  Shepard 


AU  rights  reserved 


Because  I  Love  You 


Sanibersttg  ^ress 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


iFor  g0U, 

MY   DEAREST   FRIEND, 

THESE   POEMS,    EXPRESSING  WHAT   IS  TRUEST    AND    NOBLEST 

AND    BEST    IN    HUMAN    AFFECTION,    AND    LEADING 

TO   THE    DEARER    LOVE    OF    GOD,    ARE 

SELECTED     AND     ARRANGED 

BECAUSE   I    LOVE   VOU.  * 

ANNA  E.  MACK. 


'  l'*HE  Editor  wishes  to  thank  most  cordially  the 
authors  who  have  so  kindly  permitted  the  use  of 
their  poems,  and  the  publishers  for  permission  to  use 
copyrighted  poems,  —  Messrs.  Charles  Scribner's 
Sons,  Roberts  Brothers,  Macmillan  &  Co.,  George 
Gottsberger  Peck;  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  and 
others,  —  by  whose  permission,  and  by  arrangement 
with  whom,  selections  have  been  made  from  the  fol- 
lowing authors,  whose  works  they  publish :  — 

George  Arnold.  E.  S.  Phelps-Ward. 

Alice  and  Phcebe  Gary.  Laura  C.  Redden. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson.  Margaret  J.  Preston. 

John  Hay.  John  G.  Saxe. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes.  Frank  Dempster  Sherman. 

William  Dean  Howells.  Edmund    Clarence    Sted- 

George  Houghton  man. 

Ellen  Mackay  Hutchinson.  Stuart  Sterne. 

Lucy  Larcom.  Bayard  Taylor. 

Oscar  Laighton.  Celia  Thaxter. 

Henry  Wadsworth    Long-  Edith  M.  Thomas. 

fellow.  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

James  Russell  Lowell.  Elizabeth  Whittier. 

S.  Weir  Mitchell.  Mrs.  A.  D.  T.  Whitney. 


River  Forest,  III. 


A.  E.  M. 


LIST  OF   AUTHORS. 


Addison,  Joseph.  pagb 

With  what  a  graceful  tenderness  he  loves     .     .    .  113 

Love  is  not  to  be  reasoned  down  or  lost    ....  140 

Allen,  Elizabeth  Akers. 

Four  Words 80 

Angelo,  Michael. 

Sonnet,  "  If  it  be  true  that  any  beauteous  thing  "  51 

Arnold,  Edwin. 

From  "  The  Book  of  Love  " 5 

A  Lover  with  his  Loved  One  sailed  the  Sea  ...  10 

Oh,  if  thou  be'st  True  Lover 37 

On  a  Cyclamen 106 

Too  full  of  Love  my  soul  is  to  find  place  ....  152 

Naught  is  the  same  "  as  if  Love  had  not  been"    .  196 

Not  Death  is  strong  enough  to  part  asunder     .     .  212 

He  and  She 213 

Arnold,  Matthew. 

Calais  Sands 55 

Lovers 116 

Ah,  Love !  let  us  be  true 148 

Arnold,  George. 

Among  the  Heather 165 

A  Farewell 211 

Armstrong,  George  Francis. 

I  loved  thee  for  that  dear  deep  lovingness    ...  54 
ix 


Bailey,  Philip  James.  pagb 

If  aught  can  make  me  seek 42 

I  remember  the  only  wise  thing  I  ever  did    ...      49 
It  has  been  such  a  day  as  that,  thou  knowest    .     .      88 

Bayly,  Thomas  Haynes. 

Won't  You  ? .    .    , 92 

Barlow,  George. 

Love  on  Deck 58 

Life's  Gifts 123 

Love's  Final  Powers 149 

Together 201 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 

I  did  hear  you  talk  far  above  singing 115 

Best,  Susie  M. 

Herein  is  Love 11 

Blake,  William. 

Love  seeketh  not  itself  to  please 12 

Blake,  James  V. 

Wedded 132 

Bolton,  Sara  K. 

One  Face 77 

BosTw^iCK,  Helen  Barron. 

Urvasi 81 

Brewer,  Daniel  Chauncey. 

Softly  the  Evening  Shadows 43 

Brickhead,  William  Hunter. 

He  was  a  friend  indeed 18 

Brooke,  Stopford  A. 

May  and  Love II4 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett. 

A  Woman's  Shortcomings 13 

My  Kate 25 

Three  Kisses "3 

My  Letters 114 


Browning,  Robert.  pagb 

For  life,  with  all  it  yields  of  joy  or  woe    ....  4 

Love  is  the  only  good  in  the  world 126 

Love  among  the  Ruins 134 

Bruce,  Wallace. 

No  life  is  so  strong  and  complete 18 

Buchanan,  Robert. 

To  Harriett 45 

From  "  In  the  Garden  " 115 

Burns,  Robert. 

From  "  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night "      .    .    .    .  8 

A  Red,  Red  Rose 59 

My  Jean 146 

Byron,  George  Gordon  Noel,  Lord. 

Love 4 

Gary,  Alice. 

Love  !  blessed  Love !  if  we  could  hang  our  walls .  2 

From  "  Life's  Mysteries  " 91 

Love's  light  is  strange  to  you  }    Ah,  me !      ...  1 28 

The  Unwise  Choice 181 

I  hear  a  Dear,  Familiar  Tone 191 

O  winds  !  ye  are  too  rough,  too  rough      ....  206 

Cary,  Phcebe. 

True  Love 9 

The  chords  of  love  must  be  strong  as  death      .     .  68 

Life  may  to  you  bring  every  good 122 

Carpenter,  Henry  Bernard. 

He  sang  out  of  his  soul  what  he  found  there    .     .  140 

Cassels,  Walter  R. 

Love  took  me  softly  by  the  Hand in 

Clemmer,  Mary. 

For  they  alone  have  need  of  sorrow 143 

Good-by,  Sweetheart 166 

Words  for  Parting 168 

xi 


Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor.  page 

Answer  to  a  Child's  Question ii6 

Thither  where  he  lies  buried 172 

Cooke,  Rose  Terry. 

Pour  out  thy  love  like  the  rush  of  a  river      ...      30 
Best 127 

Craik,  Dinah  Maria  Muloch. 

I  love  you.     Words  are  small 70 

The  Boat  of  my  Lover 163 

Peace,  wild-%vrung  hands  1  hush,  sobbing  breath  !  .     172 
Three  Meetings 209 

Crofts,  George  W. 

I  Love  You,  Dear 71 

De  Vere,  Aubrey. 

Happy  are  They  who  kiss  Thee 48 

Dickens,  Charles. 

Song 201 

Dorr,  Julia  C.  R. 

Thornless  Roses 195 

Douglas. 

Annie  Laurie 64 

Eliot,  George. 

Two  Lovers 107 

I  think  we  had  the  chief  of  all  love's  joys     .    .     .     115 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo. 

Give  all  to  love 39 

Friendship 47 

Eros - 138 

Gannett,  W.  C. 

In  Twos 199 

Gardiner,  Celia  E. 

But  oh  I  'twas  hard  to  have  him  go,  —  to  know    .     164 

Gilder,  Richard  Watson. 

Oh,  Love  is  not  a  Summer  Mood 7 

xii 


Gilder,  Richard  Watson  (continued).  pagb 

The  Smile  of  her  I  love 66 

Not  from  the  whole  wide  world  I  choose  thee  .     .      88 

A  Woman's  Thought 183 

After-Song 207 

Goethe. 

The  Loved  One  Ever  Near 164 

Gray,  Maxwell. 

Rondel 178 

Greenvvell,  Dora. 

Home 102 

Halm. 

A  Question 12 

Havergal,  Francis  Ridley. 

From  "  The  Message  of  an  ^olian  Harp,"  —  We 
cannot  love  too  much 31 

Hay,  John. 

Love's  Prayer 66 

Hayne,  Paul  Hamilton. 

Love  scorns  Degrees 141 

Two  Epochs 203 

Remans,  Felicia  Dorothea. 

Happy,  happier  far  than  thou 99 

0  Love  and  Death 212 

Henley,  William  Ernest. 

Love  Notes 117 

Hood,  Thomas. 

1  Love  Thee 72 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell. 

The  Girdle  of  Friendship 21 

Where  we  love  is  home 108 

O  lady,  there  be  many  things no 

Holland,  Josiah  Gilbert. 

A  Tribute 24 


xax 


Holland,  Josiah  Gilbert  [continued).  page 

From  "  The  Mistress  of  the  Manse  " 45 

Eureka 123 

From  "  Katrina  " 132 

HoLLEY,  Marietta. 

Summer 100 

Holm,  Saxe. 

I  cannot  think  but  God  must  know 190 

Houghton,  George. 

Four-Leaf  Clover 94 

Howells,  William  Dean. 

Gone 161 

Howitt,  Mary. 

OLife!  what  after-joy  hast  thou 122 

Hugo,  Victor. 

An  Extravaganza 129 

Hunt,  Leigh. 

For  there  are  two  heavens,  sweet 105 

Better  Things 131 

Hutchinson,  Ellen  Mackay. 

All  the  Year  Round 144 

Ingelow,  Jean. 

Learn  that  to  love  is  the  one  way  to  know    ...  32 

Love 67 

Lovers 90 

A  weak  white  girl 98 

Love's  Thread  of  Gold 133 

Divided 191 

I  have  the  Courage  to  be  Gay 196 

Jackson,  Helen  Hunt. 

Love's  Fulfilling 35 

Two  Truths 153 

Forgiven 157 

A  Woman's  Death- Wound 182 

Burnt  Ships 184 

xiv 


Jewett,  Sophie.  pack 

A  Friendship 49 

Juan  II.,  King  of  Castile. 

I  never  knew  it,  Love,  till  now 141 

Kemble,  Frances  Anne. 

Absence 162 

Ketchum,  Annie  Chambers. 

I  cannot  tell  the  spell  that  binds  thine  image    .     .  1 50 

KiNGSLEY,  Charles. 

Oh,  That  we  Two  were  Maying 112 

Laighton,  Oscar. 

The  Clover  Blossoms 63 

Landon,  Letitia  Elizabeth. 

All  true  deep  feeling  purifies  the  heart     ....  50 

From  "  The  Ancestress  " 79 

She  was  sent  forth 200 

Lanier,  Sidney. 

Evening  Song 96 

Larcom,  Lucy. 

A  Friend 19 

In  the  Air 50 

The  cup  of  love  the  hands  of  two  hold    ....  95 

The  Little  Brown  Cabin 100 

And  in  that  twilight  hush,  God  drew  their  hearts  .  105 

The  gate  of  Heaven  is  Love 138 

There  is  hope  that  is  never  put  by 180 

Locker,  Frederick. 

A  Nice  Correspondent 61 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth. 

From  "  The  Spanish  Student " £3 

So  these  lives  that  had  run  thus  far  in  separate 

channels 98 

From  "  The  Hanging  of  the  Crane  " 106 

Something  the  heart  must  have  to  cherish   .     .     .  iii 

From  "  The  Children  of  the  Lord's  Supper  "    .     .  138 
XV 


Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth  (continued).  page 

From  "  Evangeline  " 149 

I  do  not  love  thee  less  for  what  is  done    ....152 

0  friend !  O  best  of  friends  !  Thy  absence  more    .  160 

From  "  Michael  Angelo " .     .  161 

The  Two  Locks  of  Hair 175 

From  "  Evangeline  " 192 

Lowell,  James  Russell. 

Love 3 

With  my  love  this  knowledge  too  was  given     .     .  52 

Her  fittest  triumph  is  to  show  that  good  ....  158 

Think  not  in  death  my  love  could  ever  cease    .     .  180 

Lynch,  Anne  C. 

Go  forth  in  life  not  seeking  Love     ...          .    .  34 

Lytton,  Edward  Robert  Bulwer. 

And  love  1    "What  was  love,  then 14 

O,  near  Ones,  dear  Ones 23 

Mackay,  Charles. 

A  Love  Extravaganza 65 

Protestations ;    .    .  82 

Gone 127 

Manville,  Marion. 

Scotch  Heather 174 

Marston,  Philip  Bourke. 

What  the  Rose  saw 89 

Parting  Words 168 

MacDonald,  George. 

The  Sea-Shell 38 

Miller,  Joaquin. 

From  "  The  Sea  of  Fire  " 7 

In  a  Gondola 60 

1  simply  say  that  she  is  good 124 

Mitchell,  S.  Weir. 

From  "The  Cup  of  Youth" 77 


XVI 


Morris,  Lewis.  page 

What  shall  I  do  for  my  Love 36 

MouLTON,  Louise  Chandler. 

At  End 217 

O'Shaughnessy,  Arthur. 

A  Love  Symphony ...      78 

Palgrave,  Francis  Turner. 

Love's  Language 118 

Parker,  Benjamin  S. 

There  is  a  glory  in  tree  and  blossom 119 

Patmore,  Coventry. 

From  "  The  Angel  in  the  House  " 46 

Going  to  Church 51 

She  was  mine lOi 

Perry,  Nora. 

Tying  her  Bonnet  under  her  Chin 56 

Perry,  Carlotta. 

Love  is  Eternal 210 

Peterson,  Frederick. 

The  Sweetest  Flower  that  blows 72 

Phelps,  Elizabeth  Stuart. 

A  Letter 155 

Planche,  James  Robinson. 

They  Parted 165 

Preston,  Margaret  J. 

We  Two 217 

Procter,  Adelaide  Anne. 

Because 75 

A  Shadow 177 

Redden,  Laura  C. 

Which  is  Best     .     .     .     4 193 

Redi,  Francesco. 

Love,  the  Musician 48 


RiLEV,  James  Whitcomb.  »ag" 

At  Noon  and  Midnight 153 

A  Life  Lesson 189 

Rogers,  Samuel. 

Marriage 99 

Rollins,  Alice  Wellington. 

I  know  myself  the  Best  Beloved  of  all   .     .    .    .     112 
RossETTi,  Christina  G. 

Sonnet,  —  Trust  me,  I  have  not  earned  your  dear 
rebuke 34 

Sonnet, — O  my  heart's  heart  and  you  who  are  to  me      75 
RossETTi,  Dante  Gabriel. 

There  will  I  ask  of  Christ  the  Lord 210 

Sangster,  Margaret  Elizabeth. 

Our  Own 154 

It  is  n't  the  thing  you  do,  dear 157 

Saxe,  John  Godfrey. 

Kiss  me  softly 92 

Scott,  Sir  Walter. 

From  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  " 134 

Shakespeare,  William. 

True  Love 6 

Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe. 

Love's  Philosophy 95 

Sherman,  Frank  Dempster. 

On  a  Clock Il8 

The  Last  Letter 142 

Spofford,  Harriet  Prescott. 

Measure  for  Measure 74 

Stearne,  Stuart. 

Song  from  "  Piero  Da  Castiglione  " 117 

Stedman,  Edmund  Clarence. 

From  "  Alice  of  Monmouth  " 15 

Song  from  a  Drama 73 

xviii 


Stoddard,  Richard  Henry.  page 

From  "  The  Castle  in  the  Air  " 37 

Under  the  Rose 65 

The  Two  Anchors 103 

Perhaps  it  will  all  come  right  at  last 188 

Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles. 

Nothing  is  better,  I  well  know 122 

Taylor,  Bayard. 

Proposal ,    ,    .  93 

The  Song  of  the  Camp 125 

Taylor,  Henry. 

From  "  Artevelde" ,     .     ,  150 

Tennyson,  Alfred. 

Am  I  not  the  nobler  through  thy  love  ?     .     .     .     .  42 

From  "  The  Gardener's  Daughter  " 91 

Indeed  I  love  thee 95 

From  "Queen  Mary,"  —  The  Happiest  Hour  .     .  96 

From  "Harold" 147 

We  kissed  again  with  Tears 1 56 

Not  to  be  with  you,  not  to  see  your  face  ....  160 

0  Days  and  Hours 167 

What  Sequel.' 196 

Love  is  come  with  a  song  and  a  smile 198 

From  "  Enoch  Arden  " 202 

Love  and  Death 207 

Thaxter,  Celia. 

For  Thoughts 102 

Presage 185 

Thomas,  Edith  M. 

The  Heart's  Call 145 

Tim  ROD,  Henry. 

1  meet  her  on  the  dusty  street 54 

Unknown. 

We  love  but  Few 20 

xix 


Washburn,  William  T.  page 

A  Face 44 

Whittier,  John  Greenleaf. 

"  I 'm  sorry  that  I  spelt  the  word  " 71 

Benedicite 84 

The  Two  Loves 129 

From  "  The  Singer  " 208 

From  "  Snow-Bound " 208 

From  "  To  Lydia  Maria  Child  " 212 

Whittier,  Elizabeth. 

The  Wedding  Veil 173 

Whitney,  Mrs.  A.  D.  T. 

The  Violet 216 

Wilcox,  Ella  Wheeler. 

Love's  Coming S 

Friendship 22 

Love  Much 33 

God  measures  souls  by  their  capacity 47 

WooLSEY,  Sarah  Channing. 

Some  Lover's  Dear  Thought 43 

Love  and  Life I44 


I. 


Love  !  blessed  Love  !  if  we  could  hang  our  walls  with 
The  splendors  of  a  thousand  rosy  Mays, 

Surely  they  would  not  shme  so  well  as  thou  dost, 
Lighting  our  dusty  days. 

Without  thee  what  a  dim  and  woful  story 

Our  years  would  be,  oh,  excellence  sublime  ! 

Slip  of  the  life  eternal,  brightly  growing 
In  the  low  soil  of  time. 

Alice  Gary 


POEMS    OF    LOVE 


LOVE 

TRUE  Love  is  but  a  humble,  low-born  thing, 
And  hath  its  food  served  up  in  earthenware ; 
It  is  a  thing  to  walk  with  hand  in  hand. 
Through  the  every-dayness  of  this  work-day  world, 
Baring  its  tender  feet  to  every  roughness. 
Yet  letting  not  one  heart-beat  go  astray 
From  Beauty's  law  of  plainness  and  content; 
A  simple,  fireside  thing,  whose  quiet  smile 
Can  warm  earth's  poorest  hovel  to  a  home. 
Which,  when  our  autumn  cometh,  as  it  must. 
And  life  in  the  chill  wind  shivers  bare  and  leafless. 
Shall  still  be  blest  with  Indian-summer  youth 
In  bleak  November,  and,  with  thankful  heart, 
Smile  on  its  ample  stores  of  garnered  fruit. 
As  full  of  sunshine  to  our  aged  eyes 
As  when  it  nursed  the  blossoms  of  our  spring.- 
Such  is  true  Love,  which  steals  into  the  heart 
With  feet  as  silent  as  the  lightsome  dawn 
That  kisses  smooth  the  rough  brows  of  the  dark. 
And  hath  its  will  through  blissful  gentleness, — 
Not  like  a  rocket,  which,  with  savage  glare. 
Whirs  suddenly  up,  then  bursts,  and  leaves  the  night 

S 


Painfully  quivering  on  the  dazed  eyes ; 

A  Love  that  gives  and  takes,  that  seeth  faults, 

Not  with  flaw-seeking  eyes  like  needle-points, 

But,  loving  kindly,  ever  looks  them  down 

With  the  o'ercoming  faith  of  meek  forgiveness; 

A  Love  that  shall  be  new  and  fresh  each  hour, 

As  is  the  golden  mystery  of  sunset. 

Or  the  sweet  coming  of  the  evening  star  ; 

Alike,  and  yet  most  unlike,  every  day. 

And  seeming  ever  best  and  fairest  now. 

James  Russell  Lowell 


LOVE 

YES,  Love  indeed  is  light  from  Heaven, 
A  spark  of  that  immortal  fire 
With  angels  shared,  by  Allah  given, 
To  lift  from  earth  our  low  desire. 
Devotion  wafts  the  soul  above. 
But  Heaven  itself  descends  in  Love. 
A  feeling  from  the  Godhead  caught. 
To  wean  from  self  each  sordid  thought .' 
A  ray  of  Him  who  formed  the  whole  ; 
A  glory  circling  round  the  soul ! 

Lord  Byron 

FOR  life,  with  all  it  yields  of  joy  or  woe, 
And  hope  and  fear. 
Is  just  our  chance  o'  the  prize  of  learning  Love,  - 
How  Love  might  be,  hath  been,  indeed,  and  is. 

Robert  Browning. 
4 


FROM   "THE   BOOK   OF    LOVE" 

THE  Poet  leads  us  —  as  I  think  — 
To  this  chief  wisdom :  that  Love  is  not  Love 
Except  it  tear  forth  Self-love  from  the  breast, 
And  so  absorb  the  Lover  in  that  frame 
Of  imaged  fairness,  where  he  finds  soul's  lamp 
So  draw,  and  daze,  and  tangle  him  with  beams 
(Ever  so  darkly  radiating  from  God), 
Beams  all  for  him  —  albeit  dull  and  dim  — 
That  he  shall  quite  forget  what  else  was  dear, 
Wealth,  comfort,  peace,  pleasure  —  nay,  life  itself — 
To  live  and  die  in  light  of  those  bright  eyes. 
In  reach  of  those  sole  arms,  in  blissful  range 
Of  music  echoing  from  that  one  sweet  mouth. 

Edwin  Arnold 


LOVE'S   COMING 

SHE  had  looked  for  his  coming  as  warriors  come. 
With  the  clash  of  arms  and  the  bugle's  call; 
But  he  came  instead  with  a  stealthy  tread 
Which  she  did  not  hear  at  all. 


She  had  thought  how  his  armor  would  blaze  in  the  sun, 
As  he  rode  like  a  Prince  to  claim  his  bride ; 

In  the  sweet,  dim  light  of  the  falling  night 
She  found  him  at  her  side. 


She  had  dreamed  how  the  gaze  of  his  strange,  bold  eye 
Would  wake  her  heart  to  a  sudden  glow; 

She  found  in  his  face  the  familiar  grace 
Of  a  friend  she  used  to  know. 


She  had  dreamed  how  his  coming  would  stir  her  soul, 
As  the  ocean  is  stirred  by  the  wild  storm's  strife ; 

He  brought  her  the  balm  of  a  heavenly  calm, 
And  a  peace  which  crowned  her  life. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 


TRUE   LOVE 

LET  me  not  to  the  marriage  of  true  minds 
Admit  impediments.     Love  is  not  love 
Which  alters  when  it  alteration  finds, 
Or  bends  with  the  remover  to  remove  : 
O,  no !  it  is  an  ever-fixed  mark, 
That  looks  on  tempests  and  is  never  shaken ; 
It  is  the  star  to  every  wandering  bark, 
Whose  worth 's  unknown  although  his  height  be  taken. 
Love  's  not  Time's  fool,  though  rosy  lips  and  cheeks 
Within  his  bending  sickle's  compass  come ; 
Love  alters  not  with  his  brief  hours  and  weeks, 
But  bears  it  out  even  to  the  edge  of  doom. 

If  this  be  error  and  upon  me  proved, 

I  never  writ,  nor  no  man  ever  loved. 

William  Shakespeare 


OH,   LOVE   IS    NOT   A   SUMMER   MOOD 

OH,  love  is  not  a  summer  mood, 
Nor  flying  phantom  of  the  brain, 
Nor  youthful  fever  of  the  blood. 

Nor  dream,  nor  fate,  nor  circumstance. 
Love  is  not  born  of  blinded  chance, 
Nor  bred  in  simple  ignorance. 

Love  is  the  flower  of  maidenhood  ; 

Love  is  the  fruit  of  mortal  pain  ; 
And  she  hath  winter  in  her  blood. 

True  love  is  steadfast  as  the  skies, 

And  once  alight  she  never  flies ; 

And  love  is  strong,  and  love  is  wise. 

Richard  Watson  Gilder 


FROM    "THE   SEA   OF   FIRE" 

HOW  still  she  was.     She  only  knew 
His  love.     She  saw  no  life  beyond. 
She  loved  with  love  that  only  lives 
Outside  itself  and  selfishness,  — 
A  love  that  glows  in  its  excess ; 
A  love  that  melts  pure  gold,  and  gives 
Thenceforth  to  all  who  come  to  woo 
No  coins  but  this  face  stamped  thereon, — 
Ay,  this  one  image  stamped  upon 
Its  face,  with  some  dim  date  long  gone. 

Joaquin  Miller 
7 


FROM  "THE  COTTER'S  SATURDAY 
NIGHT  " 

BUT,  hark !  a  rap  comes  gently  to  the  door, 
Jenny,  wha  kens  the  meaning  o'  the  same, 
Tells  how  a  neibor  lad  cam  o'er  the  moor. 
To  do  some  errands  and  convoy  her  hame. 
The  wily  mother  sees  the  conscious  flame 
Sparkle  in  Jenny's  e'e,  and  flush  her  cheek ; 

Wi'  heart-struck  anxious  care  inquires  his  name, 
While  Jenny  hafflins  is  afraid  to  speak; 
Weel  pleased  the  mother  hears  it 's  nae  wild,  worth- 
less rake. 


Wi'  kindly  welcome,  Jenny  brings  him  ben 

A  strappin'  youth ;  he  takes  the  mother's  eye; 
Blithe  Jenny  sees  the  visit 's  no  ill  ta'en ; 

The  father  cracks  of  horses,  pleughs,  and  kye. 

The  youngster's  artless  heart  o'erflows  wi'  joy. 
But  blate  and  lathefu',  scarce  can  weel  behave ; 

The  mother,  wi'  a  woman's  wiles,  can  spy 
What  makes  the  youth  sae  bashfu'  and  sae  grave : 
Weel  pleased  to  think  her  bairn  's  respected  like  the 
lave. 


0  happy  love  !  —  where  love  like  this  is  found  ! 
O  heart-felt  raptures!  —  bliss  beyond  compare  ! 

1  've  pacfed  much  this  weary,  mortal  round. 

And  sage  experience  bids  me  this  declare :  — 
8 


If  Heaven  a  draught  of  heavenly  pleasure  spare, 
One  cordial  in  this  melancholy  vale, 

'T  is  when  a  youthful,  loving,  modest  pair 
In  other's  arms  breathe  out  the  tender  tale, 
Beneath  the  milk-white  thorn  that  scents  the  evening 
gale. 

Robert  Burns 


y^  TRUE    LOVE 

I  THINK  true  love  is  never  blind, 
But  rather  brings  an  added  light. 
An  inner  vision  quick  to  find 
The  beauties  hid  from  common  sight. 

No  soul  can  ever  clearly  see 
Another's  highest,  noblest  part ; 

Save  through  the  sweet  philosophy 
And  loving  wisdom  of  the  heart. 

Your  unanointed  eyes  shall  fall 

On  him  who  fills  my  world  with  light ; 

You  do  not  see  my  friend  at  all, 

You  see  what  hides  him  from  your  sight. 

I  see  the  feet  that  fain  would  climb; 

You  but  the  steps  that  turn  astray ; 
1  see  the  soul,  the  unharmed,  sublime ; 

You,  but  the  garment  and  the  clay. 
Q 


You  see  a  mortal,  weak,  misled, 
Dwarfed  ever  by  the  earthly  clod ; 

I  see  how  manhood,  perfected, 
May  reach  the  stature  of  a  god. 

Blinded  I  stood,  as  now  you  stand. 
Till  on  mine  eyes,  with  touches  sweet, 

Love,  the  deliverer,  laid  his  hand, 
And  lo !  I  worship  at  his  feet ! 

Phcebe  Gary 


A  LOVER  WITH  HIS  LOVED  ONE  SAILED 
THE  SEA 

A  LOVER,  with  his  loved  One  sailed  the  sea. 
Voyaging  home  in  tender  company; 
There  blew  a  wind  of  Death  upon  the  waters. 
There  broke  a  billow  of  calamity  ! 

It  swept  them  from  the  deck  to  dreadful  breast 
Of  the  black  ocean.     To  that  pair  distressed 

The  mariners  flung  forth  a  plank  of  rescue; 
It  reached  them  drowning  on  the  tossing  crest. 

Too  slender  't  was  to  help  —  if  both  should  hold ; 
They  saw  him  round  the  plank  her  weak  arms  fold. 

"  Gir  !  Dasti-yar-iman  !  "  he  uttered  softly  ; 
"  Clasp !  hands  !  dearer  than  Life  to  me !  "     The  cold 
lo 


Bitter  salt  swallowed  him.     But  those  who  brought 
His    beauteous    Maid,    saved    by    that    sweet    deed 
wrought, 
Spake  saying,  "  Never  lived  there  truer  Lover, 
Majuum  by  such  a  marvel  had  been  taught ! " 

Edwin  Arnold 


HEREIN    IS    LOVE 

HEREIN  is  love :  to  take  this  strange  sweet  thing 
That  we  call  life,  and  for  love's  sake  to  fling 
It  to  that  outer  darkness  men  deem  death 
That  love  may  have  a  longer,  sweeter  breath ; 
To  face  with  unaffrighted  heart  the  gloom. 
The  terror  and  the  agony  of  doom. 

Herein  is  love  :  to  lift  another's  cross. 

To  give  away  the  gold  and  keep  the  dross, 

To  trample  into  dust  the  worm  of  self. 

To  crowd  its  clam'rings  on  the  soul's  back  shelf ; 

Nor  let  it  ever  dare  upraise  its  head. 

Deny  its  every  call  till  it  lies  dead. 

Herein  is  love :  to  strip  the  shoulders  bare, 
If  need  be,  that  a  frailer  one  may  wear 
A  mantle  to  protect  it  from  the  storm, 
To  bear  the  frost-king's  breath  so  one  be  warm; 
To  crush  the  tears  it  would  be  sweet  to  shed, 
And  smile  so  others  may  have  joy  instead. 
II 


Herein  is  love  :  to  daily  sacrifice 
The  hope  that  to  the  bosom  closest  lies, 
To  mutely  bear  reproach  and  suffer  wrong, 
Nor  lift  the  voice  to  show  where  both  belong, 
Nay,  now,  nor  tell  it  e'en  to  God  above,  — 
Herein  is  love,  indeed,  herein  is  love. 

Susie  M.  Best 


LOVE  seeketh  not  itself  to  please. 
Nor  for  itself  hath  any  care. 
But  for  another  gives  its  ease, 
And  builds  a  heaven  in  hell's  despair. 

William  Blake 


^  A  QUESTION 

MY  heart,  I  will  put  thee  a  question, 
Say,  what  is  love,  I  entreat.'' 
Two  souls  with  one  thought  between  them, 
Two  hearts  with  a  single  beat. 

And  say  whence  love  comes  hither? 

Here  he  is,  we  know,  that  is  all. 
When  he  goes  tell  me  how  and  whither  ? 

If  he  goes,  't  was  not  love  at  all. 

And  what  love  loves  most  purely  ? 

The  love  that  has  no  self  quest. 
And  where  is  the  deepest  loving 

Where  love  is  silentest. 


And  when  is  love  at  its  richest  ? 
When  most  it  has  given  away. 
And  what  is  the  tongue  love  useth  ? 
The  love  that  it  cannot  say. 

H.  I.  D.  Ryder 
From  the  German  of  Halm 


A  WOMAN'S   SHORTCOMINGS 

SHE  has  laughed  as  softly  as  if  she  sighed ! 
She  has  counted  six  and  over. 
Of  a  purse  well  filled,  and  a  heart  well  tried,  — 

Oh,  each  a  worthy  lover ' 
They  "give  her  time ;  "  for  her  soul  must  slip 

Where  the  world  has  set  the  grooving; 
She  will  lie  to  none  with  her  fair  red  lip, — 
But  love  seeks  truer  loving. 

She  trembles  her  fan  in  a  sweetness  dumb, 

As  her  thoughts  were  beyond  recalling; 
With  a  glance  for  one  and  a  glance  for  some. 

From  her  eyelids  rising  and  falling, 
—  Speaks  common  words  with  a  blushful  air; 

—  Hears  bold  words,  unreproving  ! 
But  her  silence  says,  —  what  she  never  will  swear, 

And  love  seeks  better  loving. 

Go,  lady  !  lean  to  the  night-guitar, 

And  drop  a  smile  to  the  bringer; 
Then  smile  as  sweetly,  when  he  is  far, 

At  the  voice  of  an  in-door  singer ; 

13 


Bask  tenderly  beneath  tender  eyes ; 

Glance  lightly,  on  their  removing, 
And  join  new  vows  to  old  perjuries,  — 

But  dare  not  call  it  loving ! 

Unless  you  can  think,  when  the  song  is  done, 

No  other  is  soft  in  the  rhythm  ; 
Unless  you  can  feel,  when  left  by  One 

That  all  men  else  go  with  him ; 
Unless  you  can  know  when  unpraised  by  his  breath 

That  your  beauty  itself  wants  proving  ; 
Unless  you  can  swear  —  "  For  life,  for  death  !  " 

Oh,  fear  to  call  it  loving ! 

Unless  you  can  muse  in  a  crowd  all  day, 

On  the  absent  face  that  fixed  you  ; 
Unless  you  can  love,  as  the  angels  may, 

With  the  breadth  of  heaven  betwixt  you ; 
Unless  you  can  dream  that  his  faith  is  fast. 

Though  behooving  and  unbehooving ; 
Unless  you  can  die  when  the  dream  is  past,  — 

Oh,  never  call  it  loving. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


A, 


.ND  love?  — 
What    was    love,    then  ?    not    calm,    not    secure,  — 

scarcely  kind, — 
But  in  one  all  intensest  emotions  combined; 
Life  and  death :  pain  and  rapture. 

Edward  Robert  Bulwer-Lytton 
(Owen  Meredith) 
»4 


FROM    "ALICE    OF   MONMOUTH 

LOVE  from  that  summer  morn 
Melting  the  souls  of  these  two; 
Love  which  some  of  you  know 
Who  read  this  poem  to-day  — 
Is  it  the  same  desire, 
The  strong  ineiifable  joy, 
Which  Jacob  and  Rachel  felt, 
When  he  served  her  father  long  years, 
And  the  years  were  swift  as  days,  — 
So  great  was  the  love  he  bore  ? 
Race  advancing  with  time, 
Growing  in  thought  and  deed, 
Mastering  land  and  sea. 
Say,  does  the  heart  advance, 
Are  its  passions  more  pure  and  strong  ? 
They,  like  Nature,  remain 
No  more  and  no  less  than  of  yore. 
Whoso  conquers  the  earth, 
Winning  its  riches  and  fame, 
Comes  to  the  evening  at  last, 
The  sunset  of  threescore  years. 
Confessing  that  love  was  real, 
All  the  rest  was  a  dream  ! 
The  sum  of  his  gains  is  dross ; 
The  song  in  his  praise  is  mute ; 
The  wreath  of  his  laurels  fades ; 
But  the  kiss  of  his  early  love 
Still  burns  on  his  trembling  lips, 
The  spirit  of  one  he  loved 

IS 


Hallows  his  dreams  at  night. 
A  little  while  and  the  scenes 
Of  the  play  of  life  are  closed; 
Come  let  us  rest  an  hour, 
And  by  the  pleasant  streams. 
Under  the  fresh,  green  trees, 
Let  us  walk  hand  in  hand, 
And  think  of  the  days  that  were. 

Edmund  Clarence  Stedman 


i6 


II. 


No  life  is  so  strong  and  complete, 

But  it  yearns  for  the  smile  of  a  friend. 

Wallace  Bruce 

He  was  a  friend  indeed, 
With  all  afriend^s  best  virtues  shining  bright; 

It  was  no  broken  reed 
You  leaned  on,  when  you  trusted  to  his  might. 

William  Hunter  Brickhead 


A   FRIEND 

LIFE  offers  no  joy  like  a  friend ; 
Fulfilment  and  prophecy  blend 
In  the  throb  of  a  heart  with  its  own,  — 
A  heart  where  we  know  and  are  known. 

Yet  more  than  thy  friend  unto  thee, 
Is  the  friendship  hereafter  to  be. 
When  the  flower  of  thy  life  shall  unfold 
Out  of  hindering,  and  darkness,  and  cold. 

Love  mocks  thee,  whose  mounting  desire 
Doth  not  to  the  Perfect  aspire ; 
Nor  lovest  thou  the  soul  thou  wouldst  win 
To  shut  with  thine  emptiness  in. 

A  friend  !     Deep  is  calling  to  deep  ! 
A  friend  !  the  heart  wakes  from  its  sleep 
To  behold  the  world  lit  by  one  face  ; 
With  one  heavenward  step  to  keep  pace. 

O  heart  wherein  all  hearts  are  known, 
Whose  infinite  throb  stirs  our  own ! 
O  Friend  beyond  friends  !  what  are  we, 
Who  ask  so  much  less,  yet  have  Thee  ? 

Lucy  Larcom 


*9 


WE   LOVE    BUT   FEW 

OH,  yes,  we  mean  all  kind  words  that  we  say 
To  old  friends  and  to  new ; 
Yet  doth  this  truth  grow  clearer  day  by  day : 
We  love  but  few. 

We  love  !  we  love  !     What  easy  words  to  say 

And  sweet  to  hear, 
When  sunrise  splendor  brightens  all  the  way, 

And,  far  and  near, 

Are  breath  of  flowers  and  carolling  of  birds. 

And  bells  that  chime. 
Our  hearts  are  light :  we  do  not  weigh  our  words 

At  morning  time ! 

But  when  the  matin  music  all  is  hushed, 

And  life's  great  load 
Doth  weigh  us  down,  and  thick  with  dust 

Doth  grow  the  road, 

Then  do  we  say  less  often  that  we  love. 

The  words  have  grown  ! 
With  pleading  eyes  we  look  to  Christ  above 

And  clasp  our  own. 

Their  lives  are  bound  to  ours  by  mighty  bands 

No  mortal  strait, 
Nor  Death  himself,  with  his  prevailing  hands, 

Can  separate. 

20 


The  world  is  wide,  and  many  friends  are  dear. 

And  friendships  true ; 
Yet  do  these  words  read  plainer  year  by  j'ear : 

We  love  but  few. 


THE   GIRDLE   OF   FRIENDSHIP 

SHE  gathered  at  her  slender  waist 
The  beauteous  robe  she  wore; 
Its  folds  a  golden  belt  embraced  ; 
One  rose-hued  gem  it  bore. 

The  girdle  shrank ;  its  lessening  round 

Still  kept  the  shining  gem, 
But  now  her  flowing  locks  it  bound, 

A  lustrous  diadem. 

And  narrower  still  the  circlet  grew. 

Behold !  a  glittering  band, 
Its  roseate  diamond  set  anew, 

Her  neck's  white  column  spanned. 

Suns  rise  and  set ;  the  straining  clasp 

The  shortened  links  resist, 
Yet  flashes  in  a  bracelet's  grasp 

The  diamond  on  her  wrist. 

At  length,  the  round  of  changes  past 
The  thieving  years  could  bring, 

The  jewel,  glittering  to  the  last. 
Still  sparkles  in  a  ring. 

21 


So  link  by  link  our  friendships  part. 

So  loosen,  break,  and  fall, 
A  narrowing  zone ;  the  loving  heart 

Lives  changeless  through  them  all. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 


FRIENDSHIP 

DEAR   friend,  I   pray   thee,   if   thou   wouldst   be 
proving 
Thy  strong  regard  for  me, 
Make  me  no  vows.     Lip-service  is  not  loving ; 
Let  thy  faith  speak  for  thee. 

Swear  not  to  me  that  nothing  can  divide  us, 

So  little  such  oaths  mean, 
But  when  distrust  and  envy  creep  beside  us, 

Let  them  not  come  between. 

Say  not  to  me  the  depths  of  thy  devotion 

Are  deeper  than  the  sea ; 
But  watch,  lest  doubt  or  some  unkind  emotion 

Embitter  them  for  me. 

Vow  not  to  love  me  ever  and  forever, 

Words  are  such  idle  things. 
But  when  we  differ  in  opinions,  never 

Hurt  me  by  little  stings. 

22 


I  'm  sick  of  words,  they  are  so  lightly  spoken, 

And  spoken  are  but  air. 
I  'd  rather  feel  thy  trust  in  me  unbroken 

Than  list  to  thy  words  so  fair. 

If  all  the  little  proofs  of  trust  are  heeded, 

If  thou  art  always  kind. 
No  sacrifice,  no  promise  will  be  needed 

To  satisfy  my  mind. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 


O   NEAR   ONES,   DEAR   ONES 

ONEAR  ones,  dear  ones !    you,  in  whose  right 
hands 
Our  own  rests  calm ;  whose  faithful  hearts  all  day 
Wide  open  wait  till  back  from  distant  lands 

Thought,  the  tired  traveller,  wends  his  homeward 
way  ! 

Helpmates  and  hearthmates,  gladdeners  of  gone  years, 
Tender  companions  of  our  serious  days, 

W^ho  color  with  your  kisses,  smiles,  and  tears, 
Life's  warm  web  woven  over  wonted  ways, 

Young  children,  and  old  neighbors,  and  old  friends. 
Old  servants,  — you,  whose  smiling  circle  small 

Grows  slowly  smaller,  till  at  last  it  ends 
Where  in  one  grave  is  room  enough  for  all; 

23 


Oh,  shut  the  world  out  from  the  heart  you  cheer ! 

Though  small  the  circle  of  your  smiles  may  be, 

The  world  is  distant,  and  your  smiles  are  near; 

This  makes  you  more  than  all  the  world  to  me. 

Edward  Robert  Bulwer-Lytton 

(Owen  Meredith) 


A   TRIBUTE 

NOT  many  friends  my  life  has  made ; 
Few  have  I  loved,  and  few  are  they 
Who  in  my  hand  their  hearts  have  laid ; 
And  these  were  women.     I  am  gray, 
But  never  have  I  been  betrayed. 


These  words  —  this  tribute  —  for  the  sake 
Of  truth  to  God  and  woman-kind! 

These  —  that  my  heart  may  cease  to  ache 
With  love  and  gratitude  confined, 

And  burning  from  my  lips  to  break ! 


These  —  to  that  sisterhood  of  grace 
That  numbers  in  its  sacred  list 

My  mother  risen  to  her  place ; 

My  wife,  but  y ester-morning  kissed 

And  folded  in  Love's  last  embrace ! 
24 


This  tribute  of  a  love  profound 
As  ever  moved  the  heart  of  man, 

To  those  to  whom  my  hfe  is  bound, 
To  her  in  whom  my  life  began ; 

And  her  whose  love  my  life  hath  crowned. 

Immortal  Love  !  thou  still  hast  wings 
To  hit  me  to  those  radiant  fields, 

Where  music  waits  with  trembling  strings 
And  verse  her  happy  numbers  yields 

And  all  tre  soul  within  me  sings. 

So  from  the  lovely  Pagan  dream 
I  call  no  more  the  Tuneful  Nine  ; 

For  Woman  is  my  Muse  Supreme, 
And  she,  withi  fire  and  flight  divine, 

Shall  light  and  lead  me  to  my  theme. 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland 


MY   KATE 


SHE  was  not  as  pretty  as  women  I  know, 
And  yet  all  your  best  made  of  sunshine  and  snow 
Drop   to   shade,  melt  to  nought  in  the  long-trodden 

ways. 
While  she's    still    remembered    on  warm   and   cold 
days,  — 

My  Kate. 


Her  air  had  a  meaning,  her  movements  a  grace ; 
You  turned  from  the  fairest  to  gaze  on  her  face ; 
And  when  you  had  once  seen  her  forehead  and  mouth, 
You  saw  as  distmctly  her  soul  and  her  truth,  — 

My  Kate. 

III. 
Such  a  blue  inner  light  from  her  eyelids  outbroke, 
You  looked  at  her  silence  and  fancied  she  spoke; 
When  she  did,  so  peculiar  yet  soft  was  the  tone, 
Though  the  loudest  spoke  also,  you  heard  her  alone,  — 

My  Kate. 

IV. 

I  doubt  if  she  said  to  you  much  that  could  act 
As  a  thought  or  suggestion,  she  did  not  attract 
In  the  sense  of  the  brilliant  or  wise;  I  infer 
'T  was   her   thinking  of   others   made    you   think   of 
her,  — 

My  Kate. 


She  never  found  fault  with  you,  never  implied 
Your  wrong  by  her  right ;  and  yet  men  at  her  side 
Grew  nobler,  girls  purer,  as  through  the  whole  town 
The  children  were  gladder  who  pulled  at  her  gown,  — 

My  Kate. 

VI. 

None  knelt  at  her  feet  confessed  lovers  in  thrall ; 
They  knelt  more  to  God  than  they  used,  —  that  was 
all: 

26 


If  you  praised  her  as  charming,  some  asked  what  you 

meant, 
But  the   charm  of  her  presence  was  felt  when  she 

went,  — 

My  Kate. 

VII. 

The  weak  and  the  gentle,  the  ribald  and  rude, 
She  took  as  she  found  them,  and  did  them  all  good; 
It  always  was  so  with  her,  —  see  what  you  have  ! 
She  has  made  the   grass  greener  even  here,  —  with 
her  grave,  — 

My  Kate. 


My  dear  one  !  —  when  thou  wast  alive  with  the  rest, 
I  held  thee  the  sweetest  and  loved  thee  the  best ; 
And  now  thou  art  dead,  shall  I  not  take  thy  part, 
As  thy  smiles  used  to  do  for  thyself,  my  sweet  Heart, — 

My  Kate. 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


27 


Ill 


Pour  out  thy  love  like  the  lush  of  a  river 
Wasting  its  waters  forever  and  ever; 
Through  the  burnt  sands  that  reward  not  the  giver 

Silent  or  songful,  thou  nearest  the  sea. 
Scatter  thy  life  as  the  summer  shower's  pouring .' 
What  if  no  bird  through  the  pearl-rain  is  soaring  ? 
What  if  no  blossom  looks  upward  adoring  ? 

Look  to  the  life  that  was  lavished  for  thee  / 

Rose  Terry  Cookb 


FROM    "THE    MESSAGE    OF    AN    CEOLIAN 
HARP  " 

IVe  Cannot  Love  too  Much. 


"W> 


ELL  for  him 
That  he  has  such  a  heart  to  meet  his  own, 
And  well  for  you  ;  for  't  is  a  blessed  gift, 
Not  shared  by  all  alike,  —  the  power  to  love; 
And  not  less  blessed  for  proportioned  pain. 
Its  fiery  seal,  its  royal  crown  of  thorns." 

"So  seems  it,  Beatrice,  to  you,  who  find 
No  lurking  danger  in  its  concentration 
Because  you  have  so  many  near  and  dear. 
Not  so  to  me.     I  tremble  when  I  think 
How  much  I  love  him  ;  but  I  turn  away 
From  thinking  of  it,  just  to  love  him  more;  — 
«  Indeed,  I  fear,  too  much." 

"  Dear  Eleanor,  — 
Do  you  love  him  as  much  as  Christ  loves  us? 
Let  your  lips  answer  me." 

"  Why  ask  me,  dear  ? 
Our  hearts  are  finite,  Christ  is  infinite." 

"  Then  till  you  reach  the  standard  of  that  love, 
Let  neither  fears  nor  well-meant  warning  voice 
Distress  you  with  'Too  much.'     For  He  hath  said  — 
/fow  much  —  and   who    shall    dare   to   change   His 
measure  ? " 

"  T^ai  ye  should  love  as  I  have  loved  you.'''' 
Oh,  sweet  command,  that  goes  so  far  beyond 
The  mightiest  impulse  of  the  tender  heart ! 
A  bare  permission  had  been  much  ;  but  He 

31 


Who  knows  our  yearnings  and  our  fearfulness, 

Chose  graciously  to  bid  us  do  the  thing 

That  makes  our  earthly  happiness,  and  set 

A  limit  that  we  need  not  fear  to  pass, 

Because  we  cannot.     Oh,  the  breadth  and  length 

And  depth  and  height  of  love  that  passeth  knowledge  ! 

Yet  Jesus  said,  "  As  I  have  loved  you." 

"  O  Beatrice,  I  long  to  feel  the  sunshine 
That  this  should  bring;  but  there  are  other  words 
Which  fall  in  chill  eclipse.     'T  is  written,  '  Keep 
Yourselves  from  idols.'     How  shall  I  obey?  " 

"  Dear,  not  by  loving  less,  but  loving  more. 
It  is  not  that  we  love  our  precious  ones 
Too  much,  but  God  too  little.     As  the  lamp 
A  miner  bears  upon  his  shadowed  brow. 
Is  only  dazzling  in  the  grimy  dark, 
And  has  no  glare  against  the  summer  sky, 
So,  set  the  tiny  torch  of  our  best  love 
In  the  great  sunshine  of  the  Love  of  God, 
And,  though  full-fed  and  fanned,  it  casts  no  shade 
And  dazzles  not,  o'erflowed  with  mightier  light !  " 

Frances  Ridley  Havergal 


LEARN  that  to  love  is  the  one  way  to  know 
Or  God  or  man  :  it  is  not  love  received 
That  maketh  man  to  know  the  inner  life 
Of  them  that  love  him  ;  his  own  love  bestowed 

Shall  do  it. 

Jean  Ingelow 

32 


LOVE   MUCH 

LOVE  much.     Earth  has  enough  of  bitter  in  it; 
Cast  sweets  into  its  cup  whene'er  you  can. 
No  heart  so  hard  but  love  at  last  may  win  it. 
Love  is  the  grand  primeval  cause  of  man ; 
All  hate  is  foreign  to  the  first  great  plan. 

Love  much.     Your  heart  will  be  led  out  to  slaughter 
On  altars  built  of  envy  and  deceit. 

Love  on,  love  on.     'T  is  bread  upon  the  water; 
It  shall  be  cast  in  loaves  yet  at  your  feet, 
Unleavened  manna,  most  divinely  sweet. 

Love  much.    Your  faith  will  be  dethroned  and  shaken, 
Your  trust  betrayed  by  many  a  fair,  false  lure. 

Remount  your  faith,  and  let  new  trusts  awaken. 
Though  clouds  obscure  them,  yet  the  stars  are  pure ; 
Love  is  a  vital  force,  and  must  endure. 

Love   much.      Men's   souls   contract   with    cold   sus- 
picion; 

Shine  on  them  with  warm  love,  and  they  expand. 
'T  is  love,  not  creeds,  that  from  a  low  condition 

Leads  mankind  up  to  heights  supreme  and  grand. 

Oh,  that  the  world  would  see  and  understand ! 

Love  much.     There  is  no  waste  in  freely  giving; 

More  blessed  it  is,  even,  than  to  receive. 
He  who  loves  much,  alone  finds  live  worth  living; 
Love  on  through  doubt  and  darkness,  and  believe 
There  is  no  thing  which  love  may  not  achieve. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 
3  33 


SONNET 

Or  puoi  la  quantitate, 
Comprender  de  I'anior  che  a  te  mi  scalda.  —  Dante. 

Non  vo'  che  da  tal  nodo  amor  mi  scioglia.  —  Petrarca. 

TRUST  me,  I  have  not  earned  your  dear  rebuke  : 
I  love,  as  you  would  have  me,  God  the  most ; 
Would  love  not  you,  but  Him,  must  one  be  lost, 
Nor  with  Lot's  wife  cast  back  a  faithless  look, 
Unready  to  forego  what  I  forsook. 

This  say  I,  having  counted  up  the  cost ; 
This,  though  I  be  the  feeblest  of  God's  host; 
The  sorriest  sheep  Christ  shepherds  with  His  crook. 
Yet  while  I  love  my  God  the  most,  I  deem 
That  I  can  never  love  you  overmuch  ; 

I  love  Him  more,  so  let  me  love  you  too. 
Yea,  as  I  apprehend  it,  love  is  such 
I  cannot  love  you  if  I  love  not  Him, 

I  cannot  love  Him  if  I  love  not  you. 

Christina  G.  Rossetti 


GO   FORTH   IN  LIFE    NOT   SEEKING  LOVE 

GO  forth  in  life,  O  friend,  not  seeking  love ; 
A  mendicant  that  with  imploring  eye 
And  outstretched  hand  asks  of  the  passers-by 
The  alms  his  strong  necessities  may  move. 

34 


For  such  poor  love,  to  pity  near  allied, 

Thy  generous  spirit  may  not  stoop  and  wait, 
A  suppliant,  whose  prayer  may  be  denied, 

Like  a  spurned  beggar's  at  a  palace  gate  ; 
But  thy  heart's  affluence,  lavish,  uncontrolled. 

The  largess  of  thy  love,  give  full  and  free, 
As  monarchs  in  their  progress  scatter  gold  ; 

And  be  thy  heart  like  the  exhaustless  sea. 
That  must  its  wealth  of  cloud  and  dew  bestow, 
Though  tributary  streams  or  ebb  or  flow. 

Anne  C.  Lynch 


LOVE'S    FULFILLING 


o> 


H,  Love  is  weak 
Which  counts  the  answers  and  the  gains, 
Weighs  all  the  losses  and  the  pains. 
And  eagerly  each  fond  word  drains, 
A  joy  to  seek. 

When  Love  is  strong, 
It  never  tarries  to  take  heed, 
Or  know  if  its  return  exceed 
Its  gift ;  in  its  sweet  haste  no  greed. 

No  strifes  belong. 

It  hardly  asks 
If  it  be  loved  at  all ;  to  take 
So  barren  seems,  when  it  can  make 
Such  bliss  for  the  beloved  sake, 

Oh,  bitter  tasks ! 

35 


Its  ecstasy 
Could  find  hard  death  so  beauteous, 
It  sees  through  tears  how  Christ  loved  us, 
And  speaks,  in  saying,  "  I  love  thus," 

No  blasphemy. 

So  much  we  miss 
If  Love  is  weak;  so  much  we  gain 
If  Love  is  strong :  God  thinks  no  pain 
Too  sharp  or  lasting  to  ordain 

To  teach  us  this. 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson 


>,         WHAT   SHALL    I    DO    FOR    MY    LOVE? 

WHAT  shall  I  do  for  my  love, 
Who  is  so  tender 
And  dear  and  true, 
Loving  and  true  and  tender, 
My  strength  and  my  defender  — 
What  shall  I  do  ? 

I  will  cleave  unto  my  love. 

Who  am  too  lowly 

For  him  to  take. 

With  a  self-surrender  holy 

I  will  cleave  unto  him  solely, 

I  will  give  my  being  wholly 

For  his  dear  sake. 

Lewis  Morris 

36 


OH,  IF   THOU   BE'ST   TRUE   LOVER 

OH,  if  thou  be'st  true  lover,  wash  not  hand 
From  that  dear  stain  of  Love  !   from  worldly 
brand 
Of  wealth  and  self-love  wash  it !     At  the  last 
Those  win  who,  spite  of  Fortune's  tempests,  stand. 

Glad  to  wreck  all  for  Love.     I  say  to  thee  — 
I ,  Sadi  —  launch  not  on  that  boundless  Sea  ! 

But  if  thou  puttest  forth,  hoist  sail,  quit  anchor. 
To  storm  and  wave  trust  thyself  hardily! 

Edwin  Arnold 


FROM  "THE   CASTLE   IN   THE   AIR" 

I  LIVE  for  Love,  for  Love  alone,  and  who 
Dare  chide  me  for  it  ?     Who  dare  call  it  folly? 
It  is  a  holy  thing,  if  aught  is  holy, 
And  true,  indeed,  if  Truth  herself  is  true : 
Earth  yearns  for  earth,  —  its  sensuous  life  is  dear; 
Mortals  should  love  mortality  while  here. 
And  seize  the  glowing  hours  before  they  fly; 
And  eyes  should  answer  eyes,  and  lips  should  meet, 
And  hearts  unlocked  to  kindred  hearts  should  beat. 
Till  all  that  live  on  earth  in  love  should  live  and  die. 
Richard  Henry  Stoddard 
■\7 


THE  sea-Shell 

"  T     ISTEN,  darling,  and  tell  me 

J — '     What  the  murmurer  says  to  thee, 
Murmuring  'twixt  a  song  and  a  moan, 
Changing  neither  tune  nor  tone." 


"  Yes,  I  hear  it,  —  far  and  faint, 
Like  thin-drawn  prayer  of  drowsy  saint ; 
Like  the  falling  of  sleep  on  a  weary  brain, 
When  the  fevered  heart  is  quiet  again." 


"  By  smiling  lips  and  fixed  eye, 
You  are  hearing  more  than  song  or  sigh ; 
The  wrinkled  thing  has  curious  ways  — 
I  want  to  know  what  words  it  says." 


"  I  hear  a  wind  on  a  boatless  main 
Sigh  like  the  last  of  a  vanishing  pain  ; 
On  the  dreaming  waters  dreams  the  moon. 
But  I  hear  no  words  in  the  murmured  tune." 


"  If  it  does  not  say  that  I  love  thee  well, 
'T  is  a  senseless,  ill-curved,  worn-out  shell ; 
If  it  is  not  of  love,  why  sigh  or  sing  ? 
'T  is  a  common,  mechanical,  useless  thing." 

38 


"It  whispers  of  love  —  'tis  a  prophet  shell  — 
Of  a  peace  that  comes  and  all  shall  be  well ; 
It  speaks  not  a  word  of  your  love  to  me, 
But  it  tells  me-  to  love  you  eternally." 

George  MacDonald 


GIVE  all  to  love  ; 
Obey  thy  heart ; 
Friends,  kindred,  days, 
Estate,  good-fame, 
Plans,  credit,  and  the  Muse, 
Nothing  refuse. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 


39 


IV. 


Afn  I  not  the  nobler  through  thy  love  f 
Or  three  titnes  less  unworthy  ? 

Alfred  Tennyson 

If  aught  can  make  me  seek 

Other  to  be  than  that  lost  soul,  I  fear  me. 

It  is  that  thou  lov'st  mej  Heaven  were  not  Heaven 

Without  thee. 

Philip  James  Bailey 


SOFTLY  THE  EVENING  SHADOWS 

SOFTLY  the  evening  shadows 
Kiss  the  trailing  robes  of  day; 
And  clustering  round  the  roses 
At  my  feet,  they  seem  to  say, 
As  the  meadows  lose  their  being, 

And  the  lengthened  shadows  wane : 
"  Have  you  done  your  every  duty 
Pour  I'amour  de  Madeleine  ? 

"  Are  you  nobler,  stronger,  better. 

Than  you  were  when  early  dawn 
Blazoned  all  the  day  with  splendor 

At  the  advent  of  the  morn  ? 
Have  you  sought  with  manly  courage 

Some  far  distant  height  to  gain  ? 
Are  your  aspirations  higher 

Pour  I'amour  de  Madeleine  ?  " 

Daniel  Chauncey  Brewer 


SOME    LOVER'S    DEAR   THOUGHT 

I  OUGHT  to  be  kinder  always. 
For  the  light  of  his  kindly  eyes ; 
I  ought  to  be  wiser  always, 

Because  he  is  so  just  and  wise; 
And  gentler  in  all  my  bearing. 
And  braver  in  all  my  daring, 
For  the  patience  that  in  him  lies. 
43 


I  must  be  as  true  as  the  Heaven, 

While  he  is  as  true  as  the  day, 
Nor  balance  the  gift  with  the  given, 

For  he  giveth  to  me  alway. 
And  I  must  be  firm  and  steady, 
For  my  Love,  he  is  that  already, 

And  I  follow  him  as  I  may. 

O  dear  little  golden  fetter. 

You  bind  me  to  difficult  things  ; 
But  my  soul,  while  it  strives,  grows  better, 

And  I  feel  the  stirring  of  wings 
As  I  stumble,  doubting  and  dreading, 
Up  the  path  of  his  stronger  treading, 
Intent  on  his  beckonings. 

Sarah  Woolsey 

(Susan  Coolidge) 


A  FACE 

I  WANDERED  through  the  night  alone; 
A  face  from  out  the  darkness  shone, 
A  garnered  flame  of  beauty  given 
To  guide  a  blinded  soul  to  Heaven. 

O  lovely  face,  with  ray  divine, 
Forever  on  my  pathway  shine ; 
Where'er  my  wayward  footsteps  roam. 
Be  thou  my  star,  my  faith,  my  home ! 

William  T.  Washburn 
44 


FROM   "THE   MISTRESS   OF  THE  MANSE" 

HIS  love  enwrapped  her  as  a  robe, 
Which  seemed  by  its  supernal  charm 
To  shield  from  every  poisoned  probe 

Of  earthly  pain  and  earthly  harm 
This  one  choice  creature  of  the  globe. 

The  love  he  bore  her  lifted  him  — 

Into  a  bright,  sweet  atmosphere 
That  filled  with  beauty  to  the  brim 

The  world  beneath  him,  far  and  near, 
And  stained  the  clouds  that  draped  its  rim. 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland 


TO    HARRIETT 

HERE  at  the  halfway  House  of  Life  I  linger. 
Worn  with  the  way,  a  weary-hearted  singer, 
Resting  a  little  space  ; 
And  lo  !  the  good  God  sends  me,  as  a  token 
Of  peace  and  blessing  (else  my  heart  were  broken), 
The  sunbeam  of  thy  face. 

My  fear  falls  from  me  like  a  garment ;  slowly 
New  strength  returns  upon  me,  calm  and  holy ; 

I  kneel,  and  I  atone  — 
Thy  hand  is  clasped  in  mine  —  we  lean  together  — 
Henceforward,  through  the  sad  or  shining  weather, 
I  shall  not  walk  alone. 

Robert  Buchanan 
45 


FROM  "THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  HOUSE" 

1  HEN  to  my  room 

I  went,  and  closed  and  lock'd  the  door, 
And  cast  myself  down  on  my  bed ; 

And  there,  with  many  a  blissful  tear, 
I  vow'd  to  love,  and  pray'd  to  wed 

The  maiden  who  had  grown  so  dear; 
Thank'd  God  who  had  set  her  in  my  path, 

And  promised  as  I  hoped  to  win, 
I  never  would  sully  my  faith 

By  the  least  selfishness  or  sin ; 
Whatever  in  her  sight  I  'd  seem, 

I  'd  really  be  ;  I  'd  never  blend 
With  my  delight  in  her  a  dream 

'T  would  change  her  cheek  to  comprehend ; 
And,  if  she  wished  it,  I  'd  prefer 

Another's  to  my  own  success ; 
And  always  seek  the  best  for  her 

With  unofficious  tenderness. 

Rising,  I  breathed  a  brighter  clime, 

And  found  myself  all  self  above. 
And,  with  a  charity  sublime, 

Contemned  not  those  who  did  not  love; 
And  I  could  not  but  feel  that  then 

I  shone  with  something  of  her  grace. 
And  went  forth  to  my  fellow-men 

My  commendation  in  my  face. 

Coventry  Patmore 
46 


FRIENDSHIP 

A  RUDDY  drop  of  manly  blood 
The  surging  sea  outweighs, 
The  world  uncertain  comes  and  goes, 
The  lover  rooted  stays 
I  fancied  he  was  fled, — 
And,  after  many  a  year,  _ 

Glowed  unexhausted  kindliness, 
Like  daily  sunrise  there. 
My  careful  heart  was  free  again ; 
O  friend,  my  bosom  said, 
Through  thee  alone  the  sky  is  arched, 
Through  thee  the  rose  is  red; 
All  things  through  thee  take  nobler  form. 
And  look  beyond  the  earth. 
The  mill-round  of  our  fate  appears 
A  sun-path  in  thy  worth. 
Me,  too,  thy  nobleness  has  taught 
To  master  my  despair ; 
The  fountains  of  my  hidden  life 
Are  through  thy  friendship  fair. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 


GOD  measures  souls  by  their  capacity 
For  entertaining  his  best  angel,  Love. 
Who  loveth  most  is  nearest  kin  to  God, 
Who  is  all  Love  or  nothing. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox 
47 


HAPPY   ARE   THEY   WHO   KISS   THEE 

HAPPY  are  they  who  kiss  thee,  morn  and  even, 
Parting  the  hair  upon  thy  forehead  white ; 
For  them  the  sky  is  bluer  and  more  bright, 
And  purer  their  thanksgivings  rise  to  Heaven. 
Happy  are  they  to  whom  thy  songs  are  given ; 
Happy  are  they  on  whom  thy  hands  alight ; 
And  happiest  they  for  whom  thy  prayers  at  night 
In  tender  pity  so  oft  have  striven. 
Away  with  vain  regrets  and  selfish  sighs  — 
Even  I,  dear  friend,  am  lonely,  not  unblest; 
Permitted  sometimes  on  that  form  to  gaze, 
Or  feel  the  light  of  those  consoling  eyes ; 
If  but  a  moment  on  my  cheek  it  stays, 
I  know  that  gentle  beam  from  all  the  rest ! 

Aubrey  De  Vere 


LOVE,  THE    MUSICIAN 

LOVE  is  the  minstrel ;  for  in  God's  own  sight. 
The  master  of  all  melody  he  stands, 
And  holds  a  golden  rebeck  in  his  hands. 
And  leads  the  chorus  of  the  saints  in  light; 
But  ever  and  anon  those  chambers  bright 
Detain  him  not,  for  down  to  these  low  lands 
He  flies,  and  spreads  his  musical  commands, 
And  teaches  men  some  fresh,  divine  delight. 
48 


For  with  his  bow  he  strikes  a  single  chord 
Across  a  soul,  and  wakes  in  it  desire 
To  grow  more  pure  and  lovely,  and  aspire 
To  that  ethereal  country  where,  outpoured 
From  myriad  stars  that  stand  before  the  Lord, 
Love's  harmonies  are  like  a  flame  of  fire. 

Edmund  W.  Gosse 
Italian  of  Francesco  Redi 

A   FRIENDSHIP 

SMALL  fellowship  of  daily  commonplace 
We  hold  together,  dear,  constrained  to  go 
Diverging  ways.     Yet  day  by  day  I  know 
My  life  is  sweeter  for  thy  life's  sweet  grace  ; 
And  if  we  meet  but  for  a  moment's  space. 
Thy  touch,  thy  word,  sets  all  the  world  aglow. 
Faith  soars  serener,  haunting  doubts  shrink  low 
Abashed  before  the  sunshine  of  thy  face. 
Nor  press  of  crowd,  nor  waste  of  distance  serves 
To  part  us.     Every  hush  of  evening  brings 
Some  hint  of  thee,  true-hearted  friend  of  mine  ; 
And  as  the  farther  planet  thrills  and  swerves 

When  toward  it  through  the  darkness  Saturn  swings, 
Even  so  my  spirit  feels  the  spell  of  thine. 

Sophie  Jewett 
(Ellen  Burroughs) 


%l 


REMEMBER  the  only  wise  thing  I  ever  did. 
The  only  good,  was  to  love  thee. 

Philip  James  Bailey 
4  49 


IN    THE   AIR 

THE  scent  of  a  blossom  from  Eden! 
The  flower  was  not  given  to  me, 
But  it  freshened  my  spirit  forever, 
As  it  passed,  on  its  way  to  thee ! 

In  my  soul  is  a  lingering  music : 

The  song  was  not  meant  for  me, 
But  I  listen,  and  listen,  and  wonder 

To  whom  it  can  lovelier  be. 

The  sounds  and  the  scents  that  float  by  us  — 
They  cannot  tell  whither  they  go  ; 

Yet  however  it  fails  of  its  errand, 

Love  makes  the  world  sweeter,  I  know. 

I  know  that  love  never  is  wasted. 
Nor  truth,  nor  the  breath  of  a  prayer ; 

And  the  thought  that  goes  forth  as  a  blessing 
Must  live,  as  a  joy  in  the  air. 

Lucy  Larcom 


x\  A  LL  true  deep  feeling  purifies  the  heart ; 

/J        -^^     Am  I  not  better  by  my  love  for  you  ? 
At  least  I  am  less  selfish ;  I  would  give 
My  life  to  buy  you  happiness ! 

Letitia  Elizabeth  Landon 
50 


SONNET 

IF  it  be  true  that  any  beauteous  thing 
Raises  the  pure  and  just  desires  of  man 
From  earth  to  God,  the  eternal  Fount  of  all, 
Such  I  believe  my  love  :  for  as  in  her 
So  fair,  in  whom  I  all  beside  forg6t, 
I  view  the  gentle  work  of  her  Creator, 
I  have  no  care  for  any  other  thing. 
Whilst  thus  I  love.     Nor  is  it  marvellous, 
Since  the  effect  is  not  of  my  own  power, 
If  the  soul  doth,  by  nature  tempted  forth, 
Enamoured  through  the  eyes. 
Repose  upon  the  eyes  which  it  resembleth, 
And  through  them  riseth  to  the  primal  love, 
As  to  its  end,  and  honors  in  admiring: 
For  who  adores  his  Maker  must  needs  love  his  work. 
William  Wordsworth 
Italian  of  Michael  Angela 


GOING   TO   CHURCH 

HER  soft  voice,  singularly  heard. 
Beside  me  in  the  Psalms,  withstood 
The  roar  of  voices,  like  a  bird 

Sole  warbling  in  a  windy  wood : 
And  when  we  knelt,  she  seemed  to  be 

An  angel  teaching  me  to  pray ; 
And  all  through  the  high  Liturgy 
My  spirit  rejoiced  without  allay, 


Being  for  once  borne  clearly  above 

All  banks  and  bars  of  ignorance, 
By  this  bright  springtide  of  pure  love, 

And  floated  in  a  free  expanse, 
Whence  it  could  see  from  side  to  side. 

The  obscurity  from  every  part 
Winnow'd  away  and  purified 

By  the  vibrations  of  my  heart. 

Coventry  Patmore 


WITH  my  love  this  knowledge  too  was  given, 
Which  each  calm  day  doth  strengthen  more 
and  more, 
That  they  who  love  are  but  one  step  from  Heaven. 

James  Russell  Lowell 


Sa 


V. 


1 7neet  her  on  the  dusty  street, 
And  daisies  spring  about  her  feet; 
Or,  touched  to  life  beneath  her  tread, 
A  n  English  cowslip  lifts  its  head. 

Henry  Timrod 

/  loved  thee  for  that  dear,  deep  lovingness 
Resting  within  thy  tender,  brooding  eyes; 
I  loved  thee  for  thy  wealth  of  womanhood, 
Thy  quiet  questionings,  thy  sweet  replies, 
Thy  patient  brows  that  knew  no  bitter  mood. 

George  Francis  Armstrong 


CALAIS    SANDS 

A  THOUSAND  knights  have  reined  their  steeds 
To  watch  this  line  of  sand  hills  run 
Along  the  never  silent  Strait, 
To  Calais  glittering  in  the  sun. 

To  look  toward  Ardres'  Golden  Field 
Across  this  wide  aerial  plain, 
Which  glows  as  if  the  Middle  Age 
Were  gorgeous  upon  earth  again. 

Oh,  that  to  share  this  famous  scene 

I  saw,  upon  the  open  sand, 

Thy  lovely  presence  at  my  side, 

Thy  shawl,  thy  look,  thy  smile,  thy  hand ! 

How  exquisite  thy  voice  would  come, 
My  darling,  on  this  lonely  air! 
How  sweetly  would  the  fresh  sea-breeze 
Shake  loose  some  locks  of  soft  brown  hair ! 

But  now  my  glance  but  once  hath  roved 
O'er  Calais  and  its  famous  plain ; 
To  England's  cliffs  my  gaze  is  turned. 
O'er  the  blue  Strait  mine  eyes  I  strain. 

Thou  comest !     Yes,  the  vessels'  cloud 
Hangs  dark  upon  the  rolling  sea !  — ■ 
Oh,  that  yon  sea-bird's  wings  were  mine, 
To  win  one  instant's  glimpse  from  thee ! 

55 


I  must  not  spring  to  grasp  thy  hand, 
To  woo  thy  smile,  to  seek  thine  eye ; 
But  I  may  stand  far  off,  and  gaze. 
And  watch  thee  pass  unconscious  by, 

And  spell  thy  looks,  and  guess  thy  thoughts, 
Mixed  with  the  idlers  on  the  pier,  — 
Ah,  might  I  always  rest  unseen, 
So  I  might  have  thee  always  near ! 

To-morrow  hurry  through  the  fields 
Of  Flanders  to  the  storied  Rhine ! 
To-night  those  soft-fringed  eyes  shall  close 
Beneath  one  roof,  my  queen  !  with  mine. 

Matthew  Arnold 


TYING  HER  BONNET  UNDER  HER  CHIN 

'TRYING  her  bonnet  under  her  chin, 

■^      She  tied  her  raven  ringlets  in  ; 
But  not  alone  in  the  silken  snare 
Did  she  catch  her  lovely  floating  hair, 
For,  tying  her  bonnet  under  her  chin. 
She  tied  a  young  man's  heart  within. 

They  were  strolling  together  up  the  hill, 

Where  the  wind  comes  blowing  merry  and  chill ; 

And  it  blew  the  curls  a  frolicsome  race 

All  over  the  happy  peach-colored  face, 

Till,  scolding  and  laughing,  she  tied  them  in, 

Under  her  beautiful,  dimpled  chin. 

S6 


And  it  blew  a  color,  bright  as  the  bloom 
Of  the  pinkest  fuchsia's  tossing  plume, 
All  over  the  cheeks  of  the  prettiest  girl 
That  ever  imprisoned  a  romping  curl, 
Or,  tying  her  bonnet  under  her  chin, 
Tied  a  young  man's  heart  within. 

Steeper  and  steeper  grew  the  hill ; 
Madder,  merrier,  chillier,  still 
The  western  wind  blew  down  and  played 
The  wildest  tricks  with  the  little  maid. 
As,  tying  her  bonnet  under  her  chin, 
She  tied  a  young  man's  heart  within. 

O  western  wind,  do  you  think  it  was  fair 

To  play  such  tricks  with  the  floating  hair? 

To  gladly,  gleefully,  do  your  best 

To  blow  her  against  the  young  man's  breast 

Where  he  as  gladly  folded  her  in. 

And  kissed  her  mouth  and  dimpled  chin  ? 

Ah !  Ellery  Vane,  you  little  thought 
An  hour  ago,  when  you  besought 
This  country  lass  to  walk  with  you, 
After  the  sun  had  dried  the  dew, 
What  perilous  danger  you  'd  be  in 
As  she  tied  her  bonnet  under  her  chin. 

Nora  Perry 


57 


LOVE   ON   DECK 

"  T  NEVER  loved  you  much,"  she  said, 

-L     "  But  I  wanted  to  pass  the  time. 
The  hours  pass  slow  on  a  ship,  you  know, 

In  a  lazy,  tropical  clime. 
Have  I  hurt  you  much  ?     Forgive  me,  then. 

If  I  own  that  I  was  wrong. 
Cure  the  smart,  and  heal  your  heart, 
By  writing  it  all  in  a  song." 
The  waves  flowed  free,  and   the  waves   flowed 

wide. 
As  they  sat  and  whispered  side  by  side. 

"  I  never  cared  much  for  you,"  he  said, 

"  But  I  wanted  a  subject  fit. 
I  'd  verses  to  make,  and  I  thought  I  could  take 

Your  heart  and  model  from  it. 
Have  I  pained  you  much?     Forgive  me,  dear. 

A  ship  is  a  dreary  place ; 
It  is  wrong  to  flirt,  but  you  are  n't  much  hurt, 
And  you  have  a  lovely  face !  " 
The  waves   flowed  free,  and  the   waves  flowed 

strong. 
And  the  good  ship  bore  them  both  along. 

Each  looked  at  each.     They  did  not  smile : 

The  tears  were  in  either's  eyes. 
And  the  cliffs  of  England  rose  the  while 

From  the  waves,  a  white  surprise. 

S8 


Hand  sought  for  hand,  —  "  Shall  we  gravely  end 

What  first  was  a  freak  of  the  heart  ? 
Shall  we  meet  once  more  on  the  English  shore, 
But  this  time  never  to  part  ?" 
The  cliffs  rose  white  from  the  sunny  seas, 
And  church-bells  sounded  on  the  breeze. 

George  Barlow 


A   RED,    RED   ROSE 

OH,  my  luve  's  like  a  red,  red  rose. 
That 's  newly  sprung  in  June  : 
Oh,  my  luve 's  like  the  melodie 
That's  sweetly  played  in  tune. 

As  fair  art  thou,  my  bonnie  lass, 

So  deep  in  luve  am  I ; 
And  I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry. 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry,  my  dear, 
And  the  rocks  melt  in  the  sun, 

I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear. 
While  the  sands  o'  life  shall  run. 

And  fare  thee  weel,  my  only  luve ! 

And  fare  thee  weel  awhile  ! 
And  I  will  come  again,  my  luve, 
Though  it  were  ten  thousand  mile. 

Robert  Burns 
59 


IN   A   GONDOLA 

I. 
'np  WAS  night  in  Venice.     Then  down  to  the  tide, 

-L      Where  a  tall  and  shadowy  gondolier 
Leaned  on  his  oar,  like  a  lifted  spear  :  — ^ 
'Twas  night  in  Venice.     Then  side  by  side 
We  sat  in  his  boat.     Then  oar  a-trip 
On  the  black  boat's  keel,  then  dip  and  dip ;  — 
These  boatmen  should  build  their  boats  more  wide, 
For  we  were  together  and  side  by  side. 

II. 
The  sea  it  was  level  as  seas  of  light, 
As  still  as  the  light  ere  a  hand  was  laid 
To  the  making  of  lands,  or  the  seas  were  made. 
'T  was  fond  as  a  bride  on  her  bridal  night, 
When  a  great  love  swells  in  her  soul  like  a  sea, 
And  makes  her  but  less  than  divinity. 
'T  was  night,  —  the  soul  of  the  day  I  wis : 
A  woman's  face  hiding  from  her  first  kiss. 

III. 

'Twas  night  in  Venice.     On  o'er  the  tide  — 
These  boats  they  are  narrow  as  they  can  be ; 
These  crafts  they  are  narrow  enough,  and  we, 
To  balance  the  boat,  sat  side  by  side  — 
Out  under  the  arch  of  the  Bridge  of  Sighs, 
On  under  the  arch  of  the  star-sown  skies ; 
We  two  were  together  on  the  Adrian  Sea,  — 
The  one  fair  woman  of  the  world  to  me. 
60 


IV. 

These  narrow-built  boats,  they  rock  when  at  sea, 

And  they  make  one  afraid.     So  she  leaned  to  me ; 

And  that  is  the  reason  alone  there  fell 

Such  golden  folds  of  abundant  hair 

Down  over  my  shoulder,  as  we  sat  there. 

These  boatmen  should  build  their  boats  more  wide, 

Wider  for  lovers :  as  wide  —  ah,  well ! 

But  who  is  the  rascal  to  kiss  and  tell  ? 

Joaquin  Miller 


A  NICE   CORRESPONDENT 

THE  glow  and  the  glory  are  plighted 
To  darkness,  for  evening  is  come; 
The  lamp  in  Glebe  Cottage  is  lighted, 

The  birds  and  the  sheep-bells  are  dumb. 
I  'm  alone,  for  the  others  have  flitted 

To  dine  with  a  neighbor  at  Kew  ; 
Alone,  but  I  'm-not  to  be  pitied,  — 
I  'm  thinking  of  you  ! 

I  wish  you  were  here  !    Were  I  duller 

Than  dull,  you  'd  be  dearer  than  dear  ; 
I  'm  drest  in  your  favorite  color,  — 

Dear  Fred,  how  I  wish  you  were  here ! 
I  'm  wearing  my  lazuli  necklace, 

The  necklace  you  fasten'd  askew ; 
Was  there  ever  so  rude  or  so  reckless 

A  darling  as  you  ? 

6i 


I  want  you  to  come  and  pass  sentence 

On  two  or  three  books  with  a  plot : 
Of  course  you  know  "  Janet's  Repentance  "  ? 

I  'm  reading  Sir  Waverley  Scott. 
That  story  of  Edgar  and  Lucy, 

How  thrilling,  romantic,  and  true  ! 
The  Master  (his  bride  was  a  goosey!) 

Reminds  me  of  you.  ' 

They  tell  me  Cockaigne  has  been  crowning 

A  Poet  whose  garland  endures ; 
It  was  you  that  first  told  me  of  Browning,  — 

That  stupid  old  Browning  of  yours  ! 
His  vogue  and  his  verve  are  alarming, 

I  'm  anxious  to  give  him  his  due. 
But,  Fred,  he  's  not  nearly  so  charming 

A  poet  as  you  ! 

I  heard  how  you  shot  at  The  Beeches 

T  saw  how  you  rode  Chanticleer, 
I  have  read  the  report  of  your  speeches, 

And  echoed  the  echoing  cheer. 
There  's  a  whisper  of  hearts  you  are  breaking. 

Dear  P>ed,  I  believe  it,  I  do ! 
Small  marvel  that  Folly  is  making 

Her  idol  of  you. 

Alas  for  the  world,  and  its  dearly 
Bought  triumph,  its  fugitive  bliss ; 

Sometimes  I  half  wish  I  were  merely 
A  plain  or  a  penniless  miss ; 
62 


But,  perhaps,  one  is  blest  with  "  a  measure 

Of  pelf,"  and  I  'm  not  sorry,  too, 
That  I  'm  pretty,  because  't  is  a  pleasure. 

My  dearest,  to  you ! 

Your  whim  is  for  frolic  and  fashion, 

Your  taste  is  for  letters  and  art :  — 
This  rhyme  is  the  commonplace  passion 

That  glows  in  a  fond  woman's  heart ; 
Lay  it  by  in  some  sacred  deposit 

For  relics,  —  we  all  have  a  few  !_ 
Love,  some  day  they'll  print  it,  because  it 

Was  written  to  you. 

Frederick  Locker 


THE   CLOVER   BLOSSOMS 

THE  clover  blossoms  kiss  her  feet. 
She  is  so  sweet. 
While  I  who  may  not  kiss  her  hand 
Bless  all  the  wild  flowers  in  the  land. 

Soft  sunshine  falls  across  her  breast. 

She  is  so  blest, 
I  'm  jealous  of  its  arms  of  gold  ; 
Oh  that  these  arms  her  form  might  fold  ! 

Gently  the  breezes  kiss  her  hair, 

She  is  so  fair ! 
Let  flowers  and  sun  and  breeze  go  by, 
O  dearest  1     Love  me  or  I  die. 

Oscar  Laighton 
63 


ANNIE   LAURIE 

MAXWELTON  braes  are  bonnie 
Where  early  fa's  the  dew, 
And  it 's  there  that  Annie  Laurie 
Gie'd  me  her  promise  true,  — 
Gie'd  me  her  promise  true. 

Which  ne'er  forgot  will  be ; 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 
I  *d  lay  me  doune  and  dee. 

Her  brow  is  like  the  snaw-drift 

Her  throat  is  like  the  swan; 
Her  face  it  is  the  fairest 

That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on,  — 
That  e'er  the  sun  shone  on,  — 

And  dark  blue  is  her  ee ; 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I  'd  lay  me  doune  and  dee. 

Like  dew  on  the  gowan  lying 

Is  the  fa'  o'  her  fairy  feet; 
And  like  winds  in  summer  sighing 

Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet  — 
Her  voice  is  low  and  sweet  — 

And  she  's  a'  the  world  to  me; 
And  for  bonnie  Annie  Laurie 

I  'd  lay  me  doune  and  dee. 

Douglas 
64 


UNDER   THE   ROSE 

SHE  wears  a  rose  in  her  hair, 
At  the  twilight's  dreamy  close ; 
Her  face  is  fair,  how  fair 
Under  the  rose ! 

I  steal  like  a  shadow  there, 

As  she  sits  in  rapt  repose. 
And  whisper  my  loving  prayer 

Under  the  rose ! 

She  takes  the  rose  from  her  hair, 
And  her  color  comes  and  goes ; 

And  I  —  a  lover  will  dare 
Under  the  rose ! 

Richard  Henry  Stoddard 


A   LOVE   EXTRAVAGANZA 

GROW  greener,  grass,  where  the  river  flows 
Her  feet  have  pressed  you: 
Blow  fresher,  violet !  lily !  rose  ! 

Her  eyes  have  blessed  you. 
Sing  sweeter,  birds  upon  the  trees, 

Her  ears  have  heard  you  : 
Sound  up  to  heaven,  ye  harmonies ! 
Her  hands  have  stirred  you. 

Charles  Mackay 
9  65 


THE   SMILE   OF   HER   I    LOVE 

THE  smile  of  her  I  love  is  like  the  dawn 
Whose  touch  makes  Memnon  sing; 
Oh,  see  where  wide  the  golden  sunlight  flows  — 
The  barren  desert  blossoms  as  the  rose  ! 

The  smile  of  her  I  love  —  when  that  is  gone, 
O'er  all  the  world  night  spreads  her  shadowy  wing. 
Richard  Watson  Gilder 


LOVE'S    PRAYER 

IF  Heaven  would  hear  my  prayer, 
My  dearest  wish  would  be, 
Thy  sorrows  not  to  share. 

But  take  them  all  on  me ; 
If  Heaven  would  hear  my  prayer. 

I  'd  beg  with  prayers  and  sighs 
That  never  a  tear  might  flow 

From  out  thy  lovely  eyes, 
If  Heaven  might  grant  it  so ; 

Mine  be  the  tears  and  sighs. 

No  cloud  thy  brow  should  cover, 
But  smiles  each  other  chase 

From  hps  to  eyes  all  over 
Thy  sweet  and  sunny  face  ; 

The  clouds  my  heart  should  cover. 
66 


That  all  thy  path  be  light 
Let  darkness  fall  on  me ; 

If  all  thy  days  be  bright, 

Mine  black  as  night  could  be; 

My  love  would  light  my  night. 

For  thou  art  more  than  life, 
And  if  our  faith  should  set 

Life  and  my  love  at  strife, 
How  could  I  then  forget 

I  love  thee  more  than  life  ? 


John  Hay 


LOVE 

I  LEANED  out  of  window,  I  smelt  the  white  clover, 
Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  not  the  gate ; 
"  Now  if  there  be  footsteps,  he  comes,  my  one  lover  — 
Hush,  nightingale,  hush  !    O  sweet  nightingale,  wait 
Till  I  listen  and  hear 
If  a  step  draweth  near, 
For  my  love  he  is  late  I 

"  The  skies  in  the  darkness  stoop  nearer  and  nearer, 

A  cluster  of  stars  hangs  like  fruit  in  the  tree, 
The  fall  of  the  water  comes  sweeter,  comes  clearer ; 
To  what  art  thou  listening,  and  what  dost  thou  see? 
Let  the  star-clusters  grow, 
Let  the  sweet  waters  flow. 
And  cross  quickly  to  me. 

6? 


"  You  night-moths  that  hover  where  honey  brims  over 

P'rom  sycamore  blossoms,  or  settle  or  sleep ; 

You  glow-worms,  shine  out  and  the  pathway  discover 

To  him  that  comes  darkling  along  the  rough  steep. 

Ah,  my  sailor,  make  haste. 

For  the  time  runs  to  waste, 

And  my  love  lieth  deep  — 

"  Too  deep  for  swift  telling ;  and  yet,  my  one  lover, 

I  've  conned  thee  an  answer,  it  waits  thee  to-night." 
By  the  sycamore  passed  he,  and  through  the  white 
clover, 
Then  all  the  sweet  speech  I  had  fashioned  took 
flight; 

But  I  '11  love  him  more,  more 
Than  e'er  wife  loved  before, 
Be  the  days  dark  or  bright. 

Jean  Ingelow 


i 


THE  cords  of  love  must  be  strong  as  death 
Which  hold  and  keep  a  heart, 
Not  daisy-chains,  that  snap  in  the  breeze, 
Or  break  with  their  weight  apart. 

Phcebe  Gary 


68 


VI. 


T  love  you.     Words  are  small; 
^Tis  life  speaks  plain  :  In  twenty  years 
Perhaps  you  may  know  all. 

Dinah  Maria  Muloch  Craik 


1    LOVE   YOU,  DEAR 

••  T  LOVE  you,  dear ! "  and  saying  this, 
JL     My  heart  responds,  "  'T  is  true !  't  is  true !  " 

And  thrills  with  more  than  earthly  bliss 
While  still  I  say,  "  I  love  but  you !  " 

"Why  should  I  love  you,  dear?"  you  ask, 
As  tho'  true  love  could  reason  why ; 

If  love  could  think,  't  would  be  a  task 
For  me  to  love,  and  love  would  die. 

I  love  you  just  because  I  do, 

The  key  I  do  not  care  to  find. 
For  fear  the  strands  would  break  in  two 

That  me  a  willing  captive  bind. 

The  fact  is  all  I  want  to  know, 

I  will  not  grieve  while  that  is  given; 

To  lose  my  love  would  be  my  woe ; 
To  keep  it  as  it  is,  is  heaven. 

George  W.  Crofts 


"  T  'M  sorry  that  I  spelt  the  word, 

-■-     I  hate  to  go  above  you. 
Because"  —  the  brown  eyes  lower  fell  — 
"  Because,  you  see,  I  love  you !  " 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 
71 


THE    SWEETEST   FLOWER   THAT   BLOWS 

THE  sweetest  flower  that  blows 
I  give  you  as  we  part ; 
For  you  it  is  a  rose  ; 
For  me  it  is  my  heart. 

The  fragrance  it  exhales 

(Ah,  if  you  only  knew !), 
Which  but  in  dying  fails, 

It  is  my  love  of  you. 

The  sweetest  flower  that  grows 

I  give  you  as  we  part ; 
You  think  it  but  a  rose ; 

Ah,  me  !  it  is  my  heart. 

Frederick  Peterson 


I   LOVE   THEE 

I  LOVE  thee  —  I  love  thee ! 
'T  is  all  that  I  can  say  ; 
It  is  my  vision  in  the  night, 
My  dreaming  in  the  day  ; 
The  very  echo  of  my  heart, 
The  blessing  when  I  pray. 
I  love  thee  —  I  love  thee ! 
Is  all  that  I  can  say. 
72 


I  love  thee  —  I  love  thee ! 

Is  ever  on  my  tongue. 
In  all  my  proudest  poesy 

That  chorus  still  is  sung; 
It  is  the  verdict  of  my  eyes 

Amidst  the  gay  and  young : 
I  love  thee  —  I  love  thee  ! 

A  thousand  maids  among. 

I  love  thee  —  I  love  thee  ! 

Thy  bright  and  hazel  glance, 
The  mellow  lute  upon  those  lips, 

Whose  tender  tones  entrance. 
But  most  dear  heart  of  hearts,  thy  proofs. 

That  still  these  words  enhance  ! 
I  love  thee  —  I  love  thee  ! 

Whatever  be  thy  chance. 

Thomas  Hood 


SONG   FROM    A   DRAMA 

I  KNOW  not  if  moonlight  or  starlight 
Be  soft  on  the  land  and  the  sea,  — 
I  catch  but  the  near  light,  the  far  light, 

Of  eyes  that  are  beaming  for  me ; 
The  scent  of  the  night,  of  the  roses, 

May  burden  the  air  for  thee,  Sweet, — 
'T  is  only  the  breath  of  thy  sighing 
I  know  as  I  lie  at  thy  feet. 

73 


The  winds  may  be  sobbing  or  singing, 

Their  touch  may  be  fervent  or  cold, 
The  night  bells  may  toll  or  be  ringing,  — 

I  care  not  while  thee  I  enfold! 
The  feast  may  go  on,  and  the  music 

Be  scattered  in  ecstasy  round,  — 
Thy  whisper,  "  I  love  thee  !  I  love  thee  !" 

Hath  flooded  my  soul  with  its  sound. 

I  think  not  of  time  that  is  flying. 

How  short  is  the  hour  I  have  won, 
How  near  is  this  living  to  dying, 

How  the  shadow  still  follows  the  sun ; 
There  is  naught  upon  earth,  no  desire 

Worth  a  thought,  though  't  were  had  by  a  sign  ! 
I  love  thee !  I  love  thee  !  bring  nigher 

Thy  spirit,  thy  kisses,  to  mine. 

Edmund  Clarence  Stedman 


MEASURE    FOR   MEASURE 

WHAT  love  do  I  bring  you  ?    The  earth 
Full  of  love  were  far  lighter; 
f  he  great  hollow  sky  full  of  love 
Something  slighter. 

Earth  full  and  heaven  full  were  less 

Than  the  full  measure  given  : 
Nay,  say  a  heart  full,  —  the  heart 
Holds  earth  and  heaven! 

Harriet  Prescott  Spofford 
74 


SONNET 

Amor  che  a  nuUo  amato  amar  perdona.  —  Dantb 
Amor  m'addusse  in  si  gioiosa  spene.  —  Petrarca 

OMY  heart's  heart  and  you  who  are  to  me 
More  tlian  myself  myself,  God  be  with  you, 

Keep  you  in  strong  obedience,  leal  and  true 
To  him  whose  noble  service  setteth  free, 
Give  you  all  good  we  see  or  can  foresee, 

Make  your  joys  many  and  your  sorrows  few. 

Bless  you  in  what  you  bear  and  what  you  do, 
Yea,  perfect  you  as  He  would  have  you  be. 

So  much  for  you;  but  what  for  me,  dear  friend? 

To  love  you  without  stint  and  all  I  can 
To-day,  to-morrow,  world  without  an  end : 

To  love  you  much,  and  yet  to  love  you  more, 

As  Jordan  at  its  flood  sweeps  either  shore  ; 
Since  woman  is  the  helpmeet  made  for  man. 

Christina  G.  Rossetti 


BECAUSE 

IT  is  not  because  your  heart  is  mine  —  mine  only 
Mine  alone, 
It  is  not  because  you  choose  me  weak  and  lonely 

For  your  own ; 
Not  because  the  earth  is  fairer,  and  the  skies 

Spread  above  you 
Are  more  radiant  for  the  shining  of  your  eyes  — 
That  I  love  you  i 

75 


it  is  not  because  the  world's  perplexed  meaning 

Grows  more  clear ; 
And  the  Parapets  of  Heaven,  with  angels  leaning, 

Seem  more  near ; 
And  Nature  sings  of  praise  with  all  her  voices 

Since  yours  spoke, 
Since  within  my  silent  heart,  that  now  rejoices, 

Love  awoke  ! 


Nay,  not  even  because  your  hand  holds  heart  and  lifej 

At  your  will 
Soothing,  hushing  all  its  discord,  making  strife 

Calm  and  still ; 
Teaching  Trust  to  fold  her  wings,  nor  ever  roam 

From  her  nest ; 
Teaching  Love  that  her  securest,  safest  home 

Must  be  Rest. 


But    because   this   human    Love,   though   true    and 
sweet,  — 

Yours  and  mine,  — 
Has  been  sent  by  Love  more  tender,  more  complete, 

More  divine. 
That  it  leads  our  hearts  to  rest  at  last  in  Heaven, 

Far  above  you ; 
Do  I  take  you  as  a  gift  that  God  has  given  — 
And  I  love  you ! 

Adelaide  Anne  Procter 
76 


ONE   FACE 

ONE  face  looks  up  from  every  page, 
From  snowy  cloud  or  tranquil  sea ; 
One  face  that  can  all  woes  assuage, 
Dearer  than  all  the  world  to  me. 

The  eyes  are  mild,  the  brow  is  fair; 

The  voice  is  sweet  as  song  of  bird : 
How  oft  my  hand  upon  the  hair 

Has  rested  with  no  spoken  word ! 

The  years  will  come  and  go  again ; 

Their  joys  and  sorrows  they  will  trace 
On  lip,  and  brow,  and  busy  brain,  — 

And  heaven  will  hold  that  one  dear  face. 

Sara  K.  Bolton 


T 


FROM   "THE   CUP   OF   YOUTH" 

CASPAR. 

ELL  me  again  you  love  me. 


GELOSA. 

Small  my  need, 
'T  is  in  my  eyes ;  't  is  on  my  lips ;  my  heart 
Beats  to  this  music  all  the  long  day  through, 
I  am  like  a  bird  that  hath  one  only  note 
For  song,  for  prayer,  for  thanks,  for  everything. 

n 


CASPAR. 

You  cannot  know  how  passing  sweet  it  is 
To  change  the  camp,  the  field,  the  storms  of  war 
For  this  and  you  :  to  watch  the  gray  morn  wane, 
And  see  the  slumbrous  sea  leap  here  and  there 
To  silver  dreams. 

GELOSA. 

The  hand  of  time  seems  stayed, 
And  joy  to  own  the  ever  constant  hours. 
So  full  of  still  assurance  is  the  night. 
Love  hath  the  quiet  certainty  of  Heaven 
Rich  with  the  promise  of  unchanging  years. 

S.  Weir  Mitchell 


A    LOVE    SYMPHONY 

ALONG  the  garden  ways  just  now 
I  heard  the  flowers  speak. 
The  white  rose  told  me  of  your  brow, 

The  red  rose  of  your  cheek  ; 
The  lily  of  your  bended  head, 
The  bindweed  of  your  hair; 
Each  looked  his  loveliest  and  said 
You  were  more  fair. 

I  went  into  the  wood  anon, 
And  heard  the  wild  birds  sing 

How  sweet  you  were ;  they  warbled  on. 
Piped,  trilled  the  self-same  thing. 
78 


Thrush,  blackbird,  linnet  without  pause, 

The  burden  did  repeat ; 
And  still  began  again  because 

You  were  more  sweet. 

And  then  I  went  down  to  the  sea, 

And  heard  it  murmuring  too 
Part  of  an  ancient  mystery, 

All  made  of  me  and  you, 
How  many  a  thousand  years  ago 

I  loved,  and  you  were  sweet  — 
Longer  I  could  not  stay,  and  so 

I  fled  back  to  your  feet. 

Arthur  O'Shaughnessy 


FROM   "THE   ANCESTRESS" 

I  HAVE  no  hope  that  does  not  dream  of  thee  ; 
I  have  no  joy  that  is  not  shared  by  thee  ; 
I  have  no  fear  that  does  not  dread  for  thee. 
All  that  I  once  took  pleasure  in,  —  my  lute 
Is  only' sweet  when  it  repeats  thy  name  ; 
My  flowers —  I  only  gather  them  for  thee. 
The  book  drops  listless  down,  —  I  cannot  read. 
Unless  it  is  to  thee  ;  my  lonely  hours 
Are  spent  in  shaping  forth  our  future  lives 
After  my  own  romantic  fantasies. 
He  is  the  star  round  which  my  thoughts  revolve 
Like  satellites. 

Letitia  Elizabeth  Landon 

79 


FOUR  WORDS 

BELOVED,  the  briefest  words  are  best; 
And  all  the  fine  euphonious  ways 
In  which  the  truth  has  been  expressed 
Since  Adam's  early  Eden  days, 
Could  never  match  the  simple  phrase,  — 
Sweetheart,  I  love  you  ! 

If  I  should  say  the  world  were  blank 
Without  your  face  ;  if  I  should  call 

The  stars  to  witness,  rank  on  rank. 
That  I  am  true  although  they  faH, — 
'T  would  mean  but  this,  —  and  this  means  all, — 
Sweetheart,  I  love  you ! 

And  so,  whatever  change  is  wrought 
By  time  or  fate,  delight  or  dole. 

One  single,  happy,  helpful  thought 

Makes  strong  and  calm  my  steady  soul, 
And  these  sweet  words  contain  the  whole,  — 
Sweetheart,  I  love  you ! 

I  will  not  wrong  their  truth  to-day 

By  wild,  impassioned  vows  of  faith, 
Since  all  that  volumes  could  convey 
Is  compassed  thus  in  half  a  breath. 
Which  holds  and  hallows  life  and  death, — 
Sweetheart,  I  love  you ! 

Elizabeth  Akers  Allen 
80 


URVASI 

TIS  a  story  told  by  Kalidasa,  — 
Hindoo  poet,  —  in  melodious  rhyme, 
How,  with  train  of  maidens,  young  Urvasi 
Came  to  keep  great  Indra's  festal  time. 

'Twas  her  part  in  worshipful  confession 

Of  the  god-name  on  that  sacred  day, 
Walking  flower-crowned  in  the  long  procession, 

I  love  Puru-shotta-ma,  to  say. 

Pure  as  snow  on  Himalayan  ranges, 
Heaven-descended,  sooa  to  heaven  withdrawn, 

Fairer  than  the  moon-flower  of  the  Ganges 
Was  Urvasi,  daughter  of  the  Dawn. 

But  it  happened  that  the  gentle  maiden 
Loved  one  Puru-Avas,  —  fateful  name !  — 

And  her  heart,  with  its  sweet  secret  laden. 
Faltered  when  her  time  of  utterance  came. 

"  I  love  "  —  then  she  stopped,  and  people  wondered ; 

"  I  love  "  —  she  must  guard  her  secret  well; 
Then  from  sweetest  lips  that  ever  blundered 

"  I  love  Puru-Avas,"  trembling  fell. 

Oh  what  terror  seized  on  poor  Urvasi ! 

Misty  grew  the  violets  of  her  eyes, 
And  her  form  bent  like  a  broken  daisy, 

While  around  her  rose  the  mocking  cries. 
8i 


But  great  Indra  said,  "  The  maid  shall  marry 
Him  whose  image  in  her  faithful  heart 

She  so  near  to  that  of  God  doth  carry, 

Scarce  her  lips  can  keep  their  names  apart." 

Call  it  then  not  weakness  or  dissembling 
If,  in  striving  the  high  name  to  reach, 

Through  our  voices  runs  the  tender  trembling 
Of  an  earthly  name  too  dear  for  speech ! 

Ever  dwells  the  lesser  in  the  greater. 
In  God's  love  the  human  ;  we  by  these 

Know  He  holds  love's  simplest  stammering  sweeter 
Than  cold  praise  of  wordy  Pharisees. 

Helen  Barron  Bostwick 


PROTESTATIONS 

IF  the  apple  grow  on  the  apple-tree, 
And  the  wild  wind  blow  o'er  the  wild  wood  free. 
And  the  dark  stream  flow  to  the  darker  sea, 
And  they  all  had  ceased  growing  and  blowing  and 
flowing, 
I  cannot  help  loving  thee  !    I  cannot  help  loving 
thee! 
As  flows  the  dark  blue  stream  to  the  deeper  sea, 
I  cannot  help  loving  thee !     I  cannot  help  loving 
thee! 

82 


Yet  if  wild  winds  blow  never  more  on  lea, 
And  ne'er  blossoms  grow  on  the  healthy  tree, 
And  the  faithless  stream  flow  not  to  the  sea, 
And  they  all  should  cease  blowing  and  growing  and 
flowing, 
I  '11  never  cease  loving  thee  !  I  '11  never  cease  loving 
thee! 
As  flows  the  dark  blue  stream  to  the  deeper  sea, 
I  '11  never  cease  loving  thee  !   I  '11  never  cease  loving 
thee ! 

Charles  Mackay 


FROM   "THE   SPANISH    STUDENT" 

PRECIOSA. 

I  LOVE  thee  as  the  good  love  heaven; 
But  not  that  I  am  worthy  of  that  heaven. 
How  shall  I  more  deserve  it  ? 

VICTORIAN. 

Loving  more. 

PRECIOSA. 

I  cannot  love  thee  more ;  my  heart  is  full. 

VICTORIAN. 

Then  let  it  overflow,  and  I  will  drink  it. 
As  in  the  summer-time  the  thirsty  sands 
Drink  the  swift  waters  of  the  Manzanares, 
And  still  do  thirst  for  more. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 
83 


BENEDICITE 

GOD'S  love  and  peace  be  with  thee,  where 
Soe'er  this  soft  autumnal  air 
Lifts  the  dark  tresses  of  thy  hair ! 

Whether  through  city  casements  comes 
Its  kiss  to  thee,  in  crowded  rooms, 
Or  out  among  the  woodland  blooms. 

It  freshens  o'er  thy  thoughtful  face, 
Imparting,  in  its  glad  embrace. 
Beauty  to  beauty,  grace  to  grace  ! 

Fair  Nature's  book  together  read. 

The  old  wood-paths  that  knew  our  tread, 

The  maple  shadows  overhead, 

The  hills  we  climbed,  the  river  seen 
By  gleams  along  its  deep  ravine,  — 
All  keep  thy  memory  fresh  and  green. 

Where'er  I  look,  where'er  I  stray. 
Thy  thought  goes  with  me  on  my  way, 
And  hence  the  prayer  I  breathe  to-day; 

O'er  lapse  of  time  and  change  of  scene, 
The  weary  waste  which  lies  between 
Thyself  and  me,  my  heart  I  lean. 

84 


Thou  lack'st  not  friendship's  spell-word,  nor 
The  half  unconscious  power  to  draw 
All  hearts  to  thine  by  love's  sweet  law. 

With  these  good  gifts  of  God  is  cast 
Thy  lot,  and  many  a  charm  thou  hast 
To  hold  the  blessed  angels  fast. 

If,  then,  a  fervent  wish  for  thee 

The  gracious  heavens  will  heed  from  me, 

What  should,  dear  heart,  its  burden  be .'' 

The  sighing  of  a  shaken  reed,  — 
What  can  I  more  than  meekly  plead 
The  greatness  of  our  common  need  ? 

God's  love,  —  unchanging,  pure,  and  true,  — ■ 
The  paraclete  white  shining  through 
His  peace,  —  the  fall  of  Hermon's  dew  ! 

With  such  a  prayer  on  this  sweet  day, 
As  thou  mayest  hear  and  I  may  say, 
I  greet  thee,  dearest,  far  away ! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 


8S 


VII. 


It  has  been  stick  a  day  as  that,  thou  knowest,  when 

first 
I  said  I  loved  thee  ;  that  long,  sunny  day 
We  passed  upon  the  waters,  —  heeding  naught. 
Seeing  naught  but  each  other. 

Philip  James  Bailey 

Not  from  the  whole  wide  world  I  choose  thee,  — 
Sweetheart,  light  of  the  land  and  the  sea  ! 

The  wide,  wide  world  could  not  enclose  thee. 
For  thou  art  the  whole  wide  world  to  me. 

Richard  Watson  Gilder 


o 


WHAT   THE    ROSE    SAW 

THE   ROSE. 

H,  Lily  sweet,  I  saw  a  pleasant  sight. 


THE   LILY. 

Where  saw  you  it,  and  when  ? 

THE   ROSE. 

Here,  when  the  night 

Lay  calmly  over  all  and  covered  us, 

And  no  wind  blew,  however  tremulous, 

I  heard  afar  the  light  fall  of  her  feet 

And  murmur  of  her  raiment  soft  and  sweet 

THE   LILY. 

What  said  she  to  thee  when  she  came  anear? 

THE   ROSE. 

No  word,  but  o'er  me  bent  till  I  could  hear 
The  beating  of  her  heart,  and  feel  her  blood 
Swell  to  a  blossom  that  which  was  a  bud. 
Alas,  I  have  no  words  to  tell  the  bliss 
When  on  my  trembling  petals  fell  her  kiss ; 
Sweeter  than  soft  rain  falling  after  heat. 
Or  dew  at  dawn,  was  that  kiss  soft  and  sweet. 
Then  fell  another  shadow  on  the  ground, 
And  for  a  little  space  there  was  no  sound  : 
I  knew  who  stood  beside  her,  saw  his  face 
Shining  and  happy  in  that  happy  place. 
I  know  not  what  they  said ;  but  this  I  know 
They  kissed  and  passed :  where  think  you  did  they  go  ? 
Philip  Bourke  Marston 
89 


LOVERS 

A  CRASH  of  boughs!  —  one  through  them  break- 
ing! 
Mercy  is  startled,  and  fain  would  fly, 
But  e'en  as  she  turns,  her  steps  o'ertaking, 
He  pleads  with  her,  "  Mercy,  it  is  but  I ! 

"  Mercy  !  "  he  touches  her  hand  unbidden,  — 
"  The  air  is  balmy,  I  pray  you  stay,  — 

Mercy  ?  "     Her  downcast  eyes  are  hidden. 
And  never  a  word  she  has  to  say, 

Till  closer  drawn,  her  prison'd  fingers 

He  takes  to  his  lips  with  a  yearning  strong; 

And  she  murmurs  low,  that  late  she  lingers, 
Her  mother  will  want  her  and  think  her  long. 

"  Good  mother  is  she  !  then  honor  duly 
The  lightest  wish  in  her  heart  that  stirs ; 

But  there  is  a  bond  yet  dearer  truly, 
And  there  is  a  love  that  passeth  hers. 

"  Mercy,  Mercy  !  "     Her  heart  attendeth,  — 
Love's  birthday  blush  on  her  brow  lies  sweet ; 

She  turns  her  face  when  his  own  he  bendeth, 
And  the  lips  of  the  youth  and  the  maiden  meet. 

Jean  Ingelow 


go 


FROM    "LIFE'S   MYSTERIES" 

A  H,  how  the  colder  pulse  still  starts 
-^^     To  think  of  that  one  hour  sublime, 
We  hugged  heaven  down  into  our  hearts, 
And  clutched  eternity  in  time  ! 

When  love's  dear  eyes  first  looked  in  ours, 
When  love's  dear  brows  were  strange  to  frowns, 

When  all  the  stars  were  burning  flowers 
That  we  might  pluck  and  wear  for  crowns. 

Alice  Gary 


FROM  "THE  GARDENER'S  DAUGHTER" 


T, 


HEN,  in  that  time  and  place,  I  spoke  to  her, 
Requiring,  tho'  I  knew  it  was  mine  own, 
Yet  for  the  pleasure  that  I  took  to  hear. 
Requiring  at  her  hand  the  greatest  gift, 
A  woman's  heart,  the  heart  of  her  I  loved ; 
And  in  that  time  and  place  she  answered  me 
And  in  the  compass  of  three  little  words, 
More  musical  than  ever  came  in  one, 
The  silver  fragments  of  a  broken  voice, 
Made  me  most  happy,  faltering  "  I  am  thine." 

Alfred  Tennyson 
91 


WON'T   YOU 

DO  you  remember  when  you  heard 
My  lips  breathe  love's  first  faltering  word  ? 
You  do,  sweet  —  don't  you  ? 
When,  having  wandered  all  the  day, 
Linked  arm  in  arm  I  dared  to  say, 

You  '11  love  me  —  won't  you  ? 

And  when  you  blushed,  and  could  not  speak, 
I  fondly  kissed  your  glowing  cheek ; 

Did  that  affront  you? 
Oh,  surely  not ;  your  eye  exprest 
No  wrath,  but  said,  perhaps  in  jest, 

"  You  '11  love  me  —  won't  you  ?  " 

I  'm  sure  my  eyes  replied,  "  I  will ; " 
And  you  believe  that  promise  still ; 

You  do,  sweet  —  don't  you? 
Yes,  yes,  when  age  has  made  our  eyes 
Unfit  for  questions  or  replies. 

You  '11  love  me  —  won't  you  ? 

Thomas  Haynes  Bayly 


KISS    ME   SOFTLY 

KISS  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low,  — 
Malice  has  ever  a  vigilant  ear ; 
What  if  malice  were  lurking  near  ? 
Kiss  me,  dear ! 
Kiss  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low. 
gz 


Kiss  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low,  — 

Envy  too  has  a  watchful  ear ; 

What  if  envy  should  chance  to  hear? 
Kiss  me,  dear ! 
Kiss  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low. 

Kiss  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low,  — 
Trust  me,  darling,  the  time  is  near 
When  lovers  may  love  with  never  a  fear,  — 
Kiss  me,  dear ! 
Kiss  me  softly  and  speak  to  me  low. 

John  Godfrey  Saxe 


PROPOSAL 

THE  violet  loves  a  sunny  bank, 
The  cowslip  loves  the  lea, 
The  scarlet  creeper  loves  the  elm ; 
But  I  love  —  thee. 

The  sunshine  kisses  mount  and  vale, 

The  stars,  they  kiss  the  sea, 
The  west  winds  kiss  the  clover  bloom. 

But  I  kiss --thee. 

The  oriole  weds  his  mottled  mate, 

The  lily  's  bride  o'  the  bee ; 
Heaven's  marriage  ring  is  round  the  earth  — 
Shall  I  wed  thee  ? 

Bayard  Taylor 
93 


FOUR-LEAF   CLOVER 

"  TF  one  find  a  four-leaf  clover" 
-L     (She  said,  sitting  on  the  grass), 

"  He  can  wish  whate'er  he  likes  to,  — 
And  that  wish  shall  come  to  pass." 

"  Do  you  say  so  ?  "  then  down  kneeling 
'Mong  the  sorrel  and  cropt  grass, 

Looked  I  for  a  four-leaf  clover 
And  my  wish  to  come  to  pass. 

Long  I  searched  among  the  sorrel, 
Close  beside  me  she  searched  too ; 

Now  and  then  some  commonplaces 
Broke  the  silence,  — but  it  grew. 

For  my  heart  was  full  of  yearning, 

And  my  mouth  of  eager  words, 
But  I  dared  not  give  them  utterance, — 

So  I  hearkened  to  the  birds ; 

And  kept  looking,  looking,  looking, 
While  beside  me  she  looked  too  — 

Two  bent  figures  in  the  twilight. 
Green  hills  paling  into  blue. 

"  Ha,  I  have  one !  "     "  Yes,  and  wished  for  ?  " 

"You,  and  shall  it  be  ? "  I  cried. 

Eyes  cast  down  she  asked  demurely, 

"  Hath  the  clover  not  replied?  " 

George  Houghton 
94 


LOVE'S    PHILOSOPHY 

THE  fountains  mingle  with  the  river, 
And  the  rivers  with  the  ocean 
The  winds  of  heaven  mix  forever 

With  a  sweet  emotion; 
Nothing  in  the  world  is  single, 

All  things  by  a  law  divine 
In  one  another's  being  mingle  — 
Why  not  I  with  thine  ? 

See  the  mountains  kiss  high  heaven, 

And  the  waves  clasp  one  another ; 
No  sister  flower  would  be  forgiven 

If  it  disdained  its  brother; 
And  the  sunlight  clasps  the  earth, 

And  the  moonbeams  kiss  the  sea, — 
What  are  all  these  kissings  worth, 

If  thou  kiss  not  me  ? 

Percy  Bysshe  Shelley 


'T^HE  cup  of  love  the  hands  of  two  hold. 
"^  Lucy  Larcom 


I. 


.NDEED  I  love  thee:  come 
Yield  thyself  up ;  my  hopes  and  thine  are  one. 
Accomplish  thou  my  manhood  and  thyself; 
Lay  thy  sweet  hand  in  mine  and  trust  to  me. 

Alfred  Tennyson 
95 


FROM  "QUEEN    MARY" 
The  Happiest  Hour. 


I 


.T  was  Maytime, 
And  I  was  walking  with  the  man  I  loved,  — 
I  loved  him,  but  I  thought  I  was  not  loved  ; 
And  both  were  silent,  letting  the  wild  brook 
Speak  for  us,  till  he  stoop'd  and  gathered  one 
From  out  a  bed  of  thick  forget-me-nots, 
Look'd  hard  and  sweet  at  me  and  gave  it  me. 
I  took  it,  tho'  I  did  not  know  I  took  it, 
And  put  it  in  my  bosom,  and  all  at  once 
I  felt  his  arm  about  me,  and  his  lips. 

Alfred  Tennyson 


EVENING   SONG 

LOOK  off,  dear  Love,  across  the  sallow  sands, 
And  mark  yon  meeting  of  the  sun  and  sea; 
How  long  they  kiss  in  sight  of  all  the  lands  — 
Ah,  longer,  longer,  we  ! 

Now  in  the  sea's  red  vintage  melts  the  sun, 
As  Egypt's  pearl  dissolved  in  rosy  wine, 

And  Cleopatra  night  drinks  all.     'T  is  done, 
Love,  lay  thine  hand  in  mine. 

Come  forth,  sweet  stars,  and  comfort  heaven's  heart ; 

Glimmer,  ye  waves,  round  else  unlighted  sands. 
O  Night !  divorce  our  sun  and  sky  apart,  — 
Never  our  lips,  our  hands. 

Sidney  Lanier 
g6 


VIII. 


A  weak  white  girl 
Held  all  his  heartstrings  in  her  small  white  hand; 
His  youth,  and  power,  and  majesty  were  hers, 
And  not  his  own. 

Jean  Ingelow 


So  these  lives  that  had  run   thus  far  in  separate 

channels. 
Coming  in  sight  of  each  other,  then  swerving  and 

flowing  asunder. 
Parted  by  barriers  strong,  but  drawing  nearer  and 

nearer. 
Rushed  together  at  last,   and  one  was  lost  in  the 
other. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


MARRIAGE 

THEN  before  all  they  stand,  — the  holy  vow 
And  ring  of  gold,  no  fond  illusions  now, 
Bind  her  as  his.     Across  the  threshold  led. 
And  every  tear  kissed  off  as  soon  as  shed. 
His  house  she  enters,  —  there  to  be  a  light. 
Shining  within,  when  all  without  is  night; 
A  guardian  angel  o'er  his  life  presiding; 
Doubling  his  pleasures  and  his  cares  dividing, 
Winning  him  back  when  mingling  in  the  throng, 
Back  from  a  world  we  love,  alas !  too  long. 
To  fireside  happiness,  to  hours  of  easej 
Blest  with  that  charm,  — the  certainty  to  please. 
How  oft  her  eyes  read  his  ;  her  gentle  mind 
To  all  his  wishes,  all  his  thoughts  inclined ; 
Still  subject,  —  ever  on  the  watch  to  borrow 
Mirth  of  his  mirth  and  sorrow  of  his  sorrow ! 
The  soul  of  music  slumbers  in  the  shell, 
Till  waked  and  kindled  by  the  master's  spell. 
And  feeling  hearts  —  touch  them  but  rightly  —  pour 
A  thousand  melodies  unheard  before. 

Samuel  Rogers 


HAPPY,  happier  far  than  thou 
With  the  laurel  on  thy  brow, 
She  that  makes  the  humblest  hearth 
Lovely  but  to  one  on  earth. 

Felicia  Dorothea  Hemans 
99 


THE   LITTLE   BROWN   CABIN 

I  DREAM  of  it,  tossing  about  in  my  skiff, 
The  little  brown  cabin  just  under  the  cliff; 
The  wild  rose  blown  in  at  the  window  I  see. 
And  Rose  at  the  door,  looking  out  after  me; 
My  sweetheart,  my  wife, 
The  Rose  of  my  life  ! 

The  sun  in  the  doorway  strikes  gold  from  her  hair : 
The  breeze  fills  the  little  brown  house  with  salt  air, 
And  she  leans  to  its  breath,  as  if  over  the  sea 
It  were  bringing  a  kiss  and  a  message  from  me; 

My  pretty  wild  Rose, 

The  sweetest  that  grows  ! 

I  have  not  one  wish  from  my  darling  apart : 
The  thought  of  her  sweetens  my  soul  and  my  heart ; 
And  my  boat  like  a  bird  flies  across  the  blue  sea 
To  the  little  brown  cabin  where  Rose  waits  for  me, 

The  Rose  of  my  life, 

My  own  blessed  wife  ! 

Lucy  Larcom 


N 


SUMMER 

OW  sinks  the  summer  sun  into  the  sea; 
Sure  never  such  a  sunset  shone  as  this. 
That  on  its  golden  wing  has  borne  such  bliss. 
Dear  Love,  to  thee  and  me. 

100 


Ah,  life  was  drear  and  lonely,  missing  thee, 

Though  what  my  loss  I  did  not  then  divine ; 
But  all  is  past,  —  the  sweet  words,  thou  art  mine, 
Make  bliss  for  thee  and  me. 

Hov/  swells  the  light  breeze  o'er  the  blossoming  lea. 
Sure  never  winds  swept  past  so  sweet  and  low, 
No  lonely,  unblest  future  waiteth  now. 
Dear  Love,  for  thee  and  me. 

Look  upward  o'er  the  glowing  west,  and  see. 
Surely  the  star  of  evening  never  shone 
With  such  a  holy  radiance  —  oh,  my  own, 
Heaven  smiles  on  thee  and  me. 

Marietta  Holley 


SHE  WAS   MINE 

THY  tears  o'erprize  thy  loss  !     Thy  wife 
In  what  was  she  particular  ? 
Others  of  comely  face  and  life. 

Others  as  chaste  and  warm  there  are. 
And  when  they  speak  they  seem  to  sing ; 

Beyond  her  sex  she  was  not  wise  ; 
And  there  is  no  more  common  thing 
Than  kindness  in  a  woman's  eyes. 
Then  wherefore  weep  so  long  and  fast, 

Why  so  exceedingly  repine  ? 
Say,  how  has  thy  Beloved  surpass'd 

So  much  all  others  ?  "     "  She  was  mine." 
Coventry  Patmore 


HOME. 

TWO  birds  within  one  nest ; 
Two  hearts  within  one  breast; 
Two  spirits  in  one  fair, 
Firm  league  of  love  and  prayer, 
Together  bound  for  aye,  together  blest. 

An  ear  that  waits  to  catch 

A  hand  upon  the  latch  ; 

A  step  that  hastens  its  sweet  rest  to  win, 

A  world  of  care  without, 

A  world  of  strife  shut  out, 
A  world  of  love  shut  in. 

Dora  Greenwell 


FOR   THOUGHTS 

A  PANSY  on  his  breast  she  laid, 
Splendid  and  dark  with  Tyrian  dyes, 
"  Take  it,  't  is  like  your  tender  eyes, 
Deep  as  the  midnight  heaven,"  she  said. 

The  rich  rose  mantling  in  her  cheek, 
Before  him  like  the  dawn  she  stood. 
Pausing  upon  life's  height,  subdued. 

Yet  triumphing,  both  proud  and  meek; 

And  white  as  winter  stars,  intense 
With  steadfast  fire,  his  brilliant  face 
Bent  toward  her  with  an  eager  grace, 

Pale  with  a  rapture  half  suspense. 

102 


*'  You  give  me  then  a  thought,  O  sweet !  " 
He  cried,  and  kissed  the  purple  flower, 
And  bowed  by  Love's  resistless  power 

Trembling  he  sank  before  her  feet. 

She  crowned  his  beautiful  bowed  head 
With  one  caress  of  her  white  hand ; 
"  Rise  up,  my  flower  of  all  the  land  ; 

For  all  my  thoughts  are  yours,"  she  said. 

Celia  Thaxter 


THE   TWO   ANCHORS 

IT  was  a  gallant  sailor  man, 
Had  just  come  home  from  sea, 
And,  as  I  passed  him  in  the  town 

He  sang  "  Ahoy !  "  to  me. 
I  stopped,  and  saw  I  knew  the  man,  • 

Had  known  him  from  a  boy ; 
And  so  I  answered,  sailor-like, 

"  Avast !  "  to  his  "  Ahoy !  " 
I  made  a  song  for  him  one  day, — 

His  ship  was  then  in  sight,  — 
"The  little  anchor  on  the  left 

The  great  one  on  the  right." 

I  gave  his  hand  a  hearty  grip, 

"  So  you  are  back  again  ? 
They  say  you  have  been  pirating 

Upon  the  Spanish  main, 
Or  was  it  some  rich  Indiaman 

You  robbed  of  all  her  pearls  ? 


Of  course  you  have  been  breaking  hearts 

Of  poor  Kanaka  girls  f" 
"  Wherever  I  have  been,"  he  said, 

"  I  kept  my  ship  in  sight, — 
'  The  little  anchor  on  the  left, 

The  great  one  on  the  right.' " 

"  I  heard  last  night  that  you  were  in, 

I  walked  the  wharves  to-day, 
But  saw  no  ship  that  looked  like  yours ; 

Where  does  the  good  ship  lay? 
I  want  to  go  on  board  of  her." 

"  And  so  you  shall,"  said  he  ; 
"  But  there  are  many  things  to  do 

When  one  comes  home  from  sea. 
You  know  the  song  you  made  for  me  ? 

I  sing  it  day  and  night,  — 
'  The  little  anchor  on  the  left, 

The  great  one  on  the  right.' " 

"  But  how  's  your  wife  and  little  one  ?  " 

"  Come  home  with  me,"  he  said. 
"  Go  on,  go  on ;  I  follow  you." 

I  followed  where  he  led. 
He  had  a  pleasant  little  house ; 

The  door  was  open  wide, 
And  at  the  door  the  dearest  face  — 

A  dearer  one  inside. 
He  hugged  his  wife  and  child ;  he  sang, 

His  spirits  were  so  light, 
"  The  little  anchor  on  the  left. 

The  great  one  on  the  right." 
104 


T  was  supper-time,  and  we  sat  down, 

The  sailor's  wife  and  child 
And  he  and  I  ;  he  looked  at  them. 

And  looked  at  me,  and  smiled. 
"  I  think  of  this  when  I  am  tossed 

Upon  the  stormy  foam, 
And  though  a  thousand  leagues  away, 

I  am  anchored  here  at  home." 
Then,  giving  each  a  kiss,  he  said, 

"  I  see  in  dreams  at  night 
This  little  anchor  on  my  left. 

This  great  one  on  my  right." 

Richard  Henry  Stoddard 


AND  in  that  twilight  hush,  God  drew  their  hearts 
Indissolubly  close.     For  what  is  love 
But  his  most  perfect  weaving,  —  intertwine 
Of  the  soul's  deathless  fibres  threading  in 
Our  human  lives,  one  weft  with  the  divine. 

Lucy  Larcom 


FOR  there  are  two  heavens,  sweet, 
Both  made  of  love,  —  one,  inconceivable 
Ev'n  by  the  other,  so  divine  it  is ; 
The  other,  far  on  this  side  of  the  stars, 
By  men  called  home. 

Leigh  Hunt 

IDS 


ON    A   CYCLAMEN 

Plucked  at  Cana  of  Galilee  and  presented  to  a  bride. 

ONLY  a  flower!  but,  dear,  it  grew 
On  the  green  mountains  which  en-ring 
Kana-el-Jelil ;  looking  to 

The  village  and  the  little  spring ! 

The  Love  which  did  those  bridals  bless 

Ever  and  ever  on  you  shine  ! 
Make  happier  all  your  happiness. 

And  turn  its  water  into  wine  ! 

Edwin  Arnold 


FROM  "THE    HANGING   OF   THE   CRANE" 

O  FORTUNATE,  O  happy  day. 
When  a  new  household  finds  its  place 
Among  the  myriad  homes  of  earth. 
Like  a  new  star  just  sprung  to  birth. 
And  rolled  on  its  harmonious  way 
Into  the  boundless  realms  of  space ! 

For  two  alone,  there  in  the  hall, 

Is  spread  the  table  round  and  small; 

Upon  the  polished  silver  shine 

The  evening  lamps  ;  but,  more  divine, 

The  light  of  love  shines  over  all ; 

Of  love  that  says  not  mine  and  thine, 

But  ours,  for  ours  is  mine  and  thine. 

To6 


They  want  no  guests,  to  come  between 

Their  tender  glances  like  a  screen, 

And  tell  them  tales  of  land  and  sea, 

And  whatsoever  may  betide 

The  great,  forgotten  world  outside; 

They  want  no  guests;  they  needs  must  be 

Each  other's  own  best  company. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


TWO   LOVERS 

TWO  lovers  by  a  moss-grown  spri  ng : 
They  leaned  soft  cheeks  together  there, 
Mingled  the  dark  and  sunny  hair, 
And  heard  the  wooing  thrushes  sing. 
O  budding  time ! 
O  love's  best  prime ! 

Two  wedded  from  the  portal  stept : 
The  bells  made  happy  carollings. 
The  air  was  soft  as  fanning  wings, 
White  petals  on  the  pathway  slept. 
O  pure-eyed  bride ! 
O  tender  pride ! 

Two  faces  o'er  a  cradle  bent ; 

Two  hands  above  the  head  were  locked ; 
These  pressed  each  other  while  they  rocked, 
Those  watched  a  life  that  love  had  sent. 
O  solemn  hour ! 
O  hidden  power ! 

107 


Two  parents  by  the  evening  fire : 
The  red  light  fell  about  their  knees 
On  heads  that  rose  by  slow  degrees 
Like  buds  upon  the  lily  spire. 
O  patient  life ! 
O  tender  strife ! 

The  two  still  sat  together  there, 
The  red  light  shone  about  their  knees ; 
But  all  the  heads  by  slow  degrees 
Had  gone  and  left  that  lonely  pair. 
O  voyage  fast ! 
O  vanished  past ! 

The  red  light  shone  upon  the  floor 
And  made  the  space  between  them  wide, 
They  drew  their  chairs  up  side  by  side, 
Their  pale  cheeks  joined,  and  said  :  "  Once  more  ! 
O  memories  ! 
O  past  that  is  ! 

George  Eliot 


WHERE  we  love  is  home, 
Home  that  our  feet  may  leave,  but  not   out 
hearts, 
Though  o'er  us  shines  the  jasper-lighted  dome  :  — 
The  chain  may  lengthen  but  it  never  parts  ! 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 


io8 


IX. 


O  lady,  there  be  many  things 

That  seem  right  fair,  below,  above ; 

But  sure  not  one  among  them  all 
Is  half  so  sweet  as  love. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes 


LOVE   TOOK   ME   SOFTLY   BY  THE   HAND 

LOVE  took  me  softly  by  the  hand, 
Love  led  me  all  the  country  o'er. 
And  showed  me  beauty  in  the  land, 
That  I  had  never  dreamt  before. 
Never  before,  O  Love !  sweet  Love ! 

There  was  a  glory  in  the  morn, 

There  was  a  calmness  in  the  night, 

A  mildness  by  the  south  wind  borne, 
That  I  had  never  felt  aright, 
Never  aright,  O  Love  !  sweet  Love ! 

But  now  it  cannot  pass  away, 

I  see  it  wheresoe'er  I  go, 
And  in  my  heart  by  night  and  day. 

Its  gladness  waveth  to  and  fro. 
By  night  and  day,  O  Love !  sweet  Love ! 

Walter  R.  Cassels 


SOMETHING  the  heart  must  have  to  cherish. 
Must  love  and  joy  and  sorrow  learn. 
Something  with  passion  clasp,  or  perish. 
And  in  itself  to  ashes  burn. 


Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 
III 


I    KNOW   MYSELF   THE   BEST   BELOVED 
OF   ALL 

I  KNOW  myself  the  best  beloved  of  all 
The  many  dear  to  him ;  yet  not  indeed 
Because  of  his  swift  thought  for  every  need 

Of  my  love's  craving ;  I  could  scarcely  call 

My  very  own  the  power  to  enthrall 
Such  chivalry  as  his,  that  turns  to  heed 
Each  slightest  claim,  nor  thinks  to  ask  the  meed 

Of  Love  returned  where  Love's  sweet  offerings  fall. 
Not  then  because  of  all  he  is  to  me  ; 

But  by  this  surer  token  :  when  he  earns 

The  right  to  his  own  happiness,  or  yearns 
For  some  sweet,  sudden,  answering  sympathy. 
Ah  me !  with  what  quick-beating  heart  I  see 

For  his  own  joy  it  is  to  me  he  turns ! 

Alice  Wellington  Rollins 


OH,   THAT   WE   TWO   WERE   MAYING 

OH,  that  we  two  were  Maying, 
Down  the  stream  of  the  soft  spring  breeze; 
Like  children  with  violets  playing, 
In  the  shade  of  the  whispering  trees. 

Oh,  that  we  two  sat  dreaming 

On  the  sward  of  some  sheep-trimmed  down, 

Watching  the  white  mist  steaming 

Over  river  and  mead  and  town. 

TI2 


Oh,  that  we  two  lay  sleeping 

In  our  nest  in  the  churchyard  sod, 

With  our  limbs  at  rest  on  the  quiet  earth's  breast, 

And  our  souls  at  home  with  God. 

Charles  Kingsley 


THREE    KISSES 

FIRST  time  he  kissed  me,  he  but  only  kissed 
The  fingers  of  this  hand  wherewith  I  write, 
And  ever  since  it  grew  more  clean  and  white,  — 
Slow  to  world-greetings,  —  quick  with  its  "  Oh,  list ! " 
When  the  angels  speak.     A  ring  of  amethyst 
I  could  not  wear  here  plainer  to  my  sight 
Than  that  first  kiss.     The  second  passed  in  height 
The  first,  and  sought  the  forehead,  and  half  missed 
Half  falling  on  the  hair.     O  beyond  meed  ! 
That  was  the  chrism  of  love,  with  love's  own  crown. 
With  sanctifying  sweetness,  did  precede. 
The  third  upon  my  lips  was  folded  down 
In  perfect,  purple  state!  since  when,  indeed 
I  have  been  proud  and  said,  "  My  Love,  my  own." 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


WITH  what  a  graceful  tenderness  he  loves  ! 
And  breathes  the  softest,  the  sincerest  vows ! 
Complacency,  and  truth,  and  manly  sweetness 
Dwell  ever  on  his  tongue  and  smooth  his  thoughts. 

Joseph  Addison 
8  113 


MY   LETTERS 

MY  letters  all  dead  paper  —  mute  and  white !  — 
And  yet  they  seem  alive  and  quivering 
Against  my  tremulous  hands  which  loose  the  string 
And  let  them  drop  down  on  my  knee  to-night. 
This  said  —  He  wished  to  have  me  in  his  sight 
Once,  as  a  friend ;  this  fixed  a  day  in  spring 
To  come  and  touch  my  hand,  —  a  simple  thing, 
Yet  I  wept  for  it !  —  this  —  the  paper 's  hght  — 
Said,  Dear,  I  love  thee ;  and  I  sank  and  quailed. 
As  if  God's  future  thundered  on  my  past ; 
This  said,  /  am  thine,  —  and  so  its  mk  has  paled 
With  lying  at  my  heart,  that  beat  too  fast ; 
And  this  —  O  Love,  thy  words  have  ill  availed. 
If  what  this  said  I  dared  repeat  at  last ! 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


MAY   AND    LOVE. 

MAY  in  the  woods  and  in  my  heart. 
And  we  beside  the  river ; 
King  love  between  us  flying 
Said,  "  Children,  love  forever." 

I  heard  him,  and  I  thought  she  heard, 

Her  lips  began  to  quiver, 
And  so  I  shyly  kissed  her ; 
Love  laughed  along  the  river ! 

Stopford  a.  Brooke 
114 


FROM   "IN    THE   GARDEN" 

AND  this  is  Love  !  until  this  hour 
I  never  lived ;  but  like  a  flower 
Close  prest  i'  the  bud,  with  sleeping  senses, 
I  drank  the  dark  dim  influences 
Of  sunlight,  moonlight,  shade,  and  dew. 
At  last  I  open,  thrilling  thro' 
With  Love's  strange  scent,  which  seemeth  part 
Of  the  warm  life  within  my  heart, 
Part  of  the  air  I  breathe  —  O  bliss  ! 
Was  ever  night  so  sweet  as  this  ? 
It  is  enough  to  breathe,  to  be, 
As  if  one  were  a  flower,  a  tree ; 
A  leaf  o'  the  bough,  just  stirring  light 
With  the  warm  breathing  of  the  night ! 

Robert  Buchanan 


I  DID  hear  you  talk 
Far  above  singing ;  after  you  were  gone, 
I  grew  acquainted  with  my  heart,  and  searched 
What  stirred  it  so.     Alas  !  I  found  it  love. 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher 


I 


THINK  we  had  the  chief  of  all  love's  joys 
Only  in  knowing  that  we  loved  each  other. 
George  Eliot 


LOVERS 

TWO  young  fair  lovers, 
Where  the  warm  June  wind, 
Fresh  from  the  sunny  fields. 
Plays  fondly  round  them, 
Stand,  tranced  in  joy. 

With  sweet,  join'd  voices, 
And  with  eyes  brimming  ; 
*'  Ah,"  they  cry,  "  Destiny, 
Prolong  the  present ! 
Time,  stand  still  here  !  " 

Matthew  Arnold 


ANSWER    TO   A   CHILD'S    QUESTION 

DO  you  ask  what  the  birds  say  ?     The  sparrow, 
the  dove, 
The  linnet,  and  thrush  say,  "  I  love,  and  I  love  !  " 
In  winter  they  're  silent,  the  wind  is  so  strong; 
What  it  says  I  don't  know,  but  it  sings  a  loud  song. 
But  green   leaves,   and   blossoms,   and   sunny  warm 

weather. 
And  singing  and  loving,  all  come  back  together. 
But  the  lark  is  so  brimful  of  gladness  and  love, 
The  green  fields  below  him,  the  blue  sky  above. 
That  he  sings  and  he  sings,  and  forever  sings  he, 
I  love  my  Love,  and  my  Love  loves  me. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 
it6 


LOVE    NOTES 

THE  nightingale  has  a  lyre  of  gold, 
The  lark's  is  a  clarion  call, 
And  the  blackbird  plays  but  a  box-wood  flute, 
But  I  love  him  best  of  all. 

For  his  song  is  all  of  the  joy  of  life, 
And  we  in  the  mad  spring  weather, 

We  two  have  listened  till  he  sang 
Our  hearts  and  lips  together. 

William  Ernest  Henley 


SONG    FROM    "PIERO    DA   CASTIGLIONE^ 

OJOY  of  life,  O  joy  of  love  ! 
When  cloudless  skies  are  blue  above, 
In  starry  spring! 

When  happy  warblers  on  the  wing 
Do  mating  build  their  nests  and  sing,  — 
O  joy  of  life  ! 

O  joy  of  life,  O  joy  of  love  ! 

When  God  in  cloudless  skies  above 

Knits  heart  to  heart 

That  time,  nor  fate,  nor  death  can  part. 

Stuart  Stearne 
117 


ON    A    CLOCK 

LONELY  once,  my  love  away, 
To  this  slave  of  Time  I  cried : 
"  Faster  on  your  journey  glide, 
Let  your  feet  no  second  stay ; 
Speed  the  dreary  night  and  day  !  " 
He  all  heedless,  obstinate. 
Never  quickened  in  his  gait. 

Happy  once,  my  love  in  sight, 
To  this  slave  of  Time  I  prayed : 
"  Be  your  journey  slowly  made. 
Loiter  with  me  in  delight ; 
Stay  the  happy  day  and  night !  " 

Obstinate,  he  heard  at  last,  — 
Heard,  and  hurried  twice  as  fast. 

Frank  Dempster  Sherman 


LOVE'S    LANGUAGE 

npHEIR  little  language  the  children 
-*-      Have,  on  the  knee  as  they  sit ; 
And  only  those  who  love  them 
Can  find  the  key  to  it. 

The  words  thereof  and  the  grammar 

Perplex  the  logician's  art ; 
But  the  heart  goes  straight  with  the  meaning, 

And  the  meaning  is  clear  to  the  heart. 
ti8 


So  thou,  my  Love,  hast  a  language 

That  in  little  says  all  to  me  ;  — 
But  the  world  cannot  guess  the  sweetness 

Which  is  hidden  with  love  and  thee. 

Francis  Turner  Palgrave 


THERE  is  a  glory  in  tree  and  blossom, 
A  trill  in  the  wild  bird's  tone, 
A  balm  in  the  summer  breezes, 
That  Love  revealeth,  alone. 

Benjamin  S.  Parker 


119 


X. 


O  Life  !  what  after-joy  hast  thou 
Like  Love's  first  certain  gladness  ? 

Mary  Howitt 

Nothing  is  better^  I  well  know. 
Than  love. 

Algernon  Charles  Swinburne 

Life  may  to  you  bring  every  good 

Which  from  a  Father's  handcanfall  : 

But  if  true  lips  have  said  to  tne, 
"  /  love  you,''''  I  have  knozvn  it  all ! 

Phcebe  Gary 


LIFE'S    GIFTS 

WHEN  I  grow  gray  and  men  shall  say  to  me, 
"  What  was  the  worth  of  living,  truly  told  ? 
Lo !  thou  hast  lived  thy  life  out;  thou  art  old  ; 

Thou  hast  gathered  fruit  from  many  a  green-leaved 
tree, 

And  kissed  love's  lips  by  many  a  summer  sea, 
And  twined  soft  hands  in  locks  of  shining  gold, 
But  all  thy  days  are  dead  days  now,  behold  ! 

Life  passes  onward,  —  what  is  life  to  thee  ?  " 
Then  will  I  answer,  —  as  thy  gracious  eyes, 
Love,  gleam  upon  me  from  dim  far-off  skies,  — 
"  Life  had  its  endless  deathless  charm,  —  and  still 
That  charm  weaves  rapture  round  me  at  my  will, 
Life  has  its  glory,  —  for  I  have  seen  Theej 
And  roses,  and  June  sunsets,  —  and  the  sea." 

George  Barlow 


EUREKA 

WHOM  I  crown  with  love  is  royal. 
Matters  not  her  blood  or  birth ; 
She  is  queen,  and  I  am  loyal 
To  the  noblest  of  the  earth. 

Neither  place,  nor  wealth,  nor  title, 
Lacks  the  man  my  friendship  owns  ; 

His  distinction,  true  and  vital. 

Shines  supreme  o'er  crowns  and  thrones. 
123 


Where  true  love  bestows  its  sweetness, 
Where  true  friendship  lays  its  hand, 

Dwells  all  greatness,  all  completeness, 
All  the  wealth  of  every  land. 

Man  is  greater  than  condition, 
And  where  man  himself  bestows, 

He  begets,  and  gives  position 
To  the  gentlest  that  he  knows. 

Neither  miracle  nor  fable 

Is  the  water  changed  to  wine ; 
Lords  and  ladies  at  my  table 

Prove  Love's  simplest  fare  divine. 

And  if  these  accept  my  duty. 

If  the  loved  my  homage  own, 
I  have  won  all  worth  and  beauty ; 

I  have  found  the  magic  stone. 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland 


I 


SIMPLY  say  that  she  is  good. 
And  loves  me  with  pure  womanhood. 
.  When  that  is  said,  why,  what  remains  ? 
Joaquin  Miller 

124 


THE   SONG   OF    THE    CAMP 

"  /^^IVE  us  a  song  !  "  the  soldiers  cried, 
^<-^    The  outer  trenches  guarding, 
When  the  heated  guns  of  the  camps  allied 
Grew  weary  of  bombarding. 

The  dark  Redan,  in  silent  scoff, 
Lay,  grim  and  threatening,  under ; 

And  the  tawny  mound  of  the  Malakoff 
No  longer  belched  its  thunder. 

There  was  a  pause.     A  guardsman  said : 
"  We  storm  the  forts  to-morrow : 

Sing  while  we  may,  another  day 
Will  bring  enough  of  sorrow." 

They  lay  along  the  battery's  side, 

Below  the  smoking  cannon ; 
Brave  hearts  from  Severn  and  from  Clyde, 

And  from  the  banks  of  Shannon. 

They  sang  of  love  and  not  of  fame : 

Forgot  was  Britain's  glory ; 
Each  heart  recalled  a  different  name. 

But  all  sang  "  Annie  Laurie." 

Voice  after  voice  caught  up  the  song, 

Until  its  tender  passion 
Rose  like  an  anthem,  rich  and  strong,  — 

Their  battle-eve  confession. 
125 


Dear  girl,  her  name  he  dared  not  speak, 

But,  as  the  song  grew  louder. 
Something  upon  the  soldier's  cheek 

Washed  off  the  stains  of  powder. 

Beyond  the  darkening  ocean  burned 

The  bloody  sunset's  embers. 
While  the  Crimean  valleys  learned 

How  English  love  remembers. 

And  once  again  a  fire  of  hell 
Rained  on  the  Russian  quarters 

With  scream  of  shot,  and  burst  of  shell, 
And  bellowing  of  the  mortars. 

And  Irish  Nora's  eyes  are  dim 

For  a  singer,  dumb  and  gory, 
And  English  Mary  mourns  for  him 

Who  sang  of  "  Annie  Laurie." 

Sleep,  soldiers !  still  in  honored  rest 

Your  truth  and  valor  wearing  ; 
The  bravest  are  the  tenderest, 

The  loving  are  the  daring. 

Bayard  Taylor 


LOVE  is  the  only  good  in  the  world. 
Henceforth  be  loved  as  heart  can  love, 
Or  brain  devise,  or  hand  approve. 

Robert  Browning 
126 


GONE 

"  /'^ONE  is  the  freshness  of  my  youthful  prime; 

^^     Gone  the  illusions  of  a  later  time ; 
Gone  is  the  thought  that  wealth  is  worth  its  cost 
Or  aught  I  hold  so  good  as  what  I  've  lost ; 
Gone  are  the  beauty  and  the  nameless  grace 
That  once  I  worshipped  in  dear  Nature's  face. 
Gone  is  the  mighty  music  that  of  yore 
Swept  through  the  woods  or  rolled  upon  the  shore; 
Gone  the  desire  of  glory  in  men's  breath 
To  waft  my  name  beyond  the  deeps  of  Death ; 
Gone  is  the  hope  that  in  the  darkest  day 
Saw  bright  to-morrow  with  empurpling  ray ; 
Gone,  gone,  all  gone,  on  which  my  heart  was  cast. 
Gone,  gone  forever  to  the  awful  Past :  — 
All  gone  —  but  Love  !  " 

Oh,  coward  to  repine  ! 
Thou  hast  all  else,  if  Love  indeed  be  thine ! 

Charles  Mackay 


BEST 

"  T    OVE  is  better  than  house  and  lands: 

J — '     So,  Sir  Stephen,  I  '11  ride  with  thee." 
She  made  one  step  where  the  courser  stands, 
One  light  spring  to  the  saddle-tree. 
127 


Love  is  better  than  kith  or  kin : 
So  close  she  clung,  and  so  close  clasped  he, 
They  heard  no  sob  of  the  bitter  wind, 
Or  snow  that  shuddered  along  the  lea. 

Love  is  better  than  life  and  breath : 
The  drifts  are  over  the  horse's  knee, 
Softly  they  sink  to  the  soft  white  death, 
And  the  snow  shroud  hides  them  silently. 

Houses  and  lands  are  gone  for  aye ; 
Kith  and  kin  like  the  wild  wind  flee ; 
Life  and  death  have  vanished  away ; 
But  love  hath  blossomed  eternally. 

Rose  Terry  Cooke 


LOVE'S  light  is  strange  to  you  ?     Ah,  me ! 
Your  heart  is  an  unquickened  seed, 
And  whatsoe'er  your  fortunes  be, 
I  tell  you,  you  are  poor  indeed. 

What  toucheth  it,  it  maketii  bright. 

Yet  loseth  nothing,  like  the  sun, 
Within  whose  great  and  gracious  light 
A  thousand  dew-drops  shine  as  one. 

Alice  Gary 
128 


AN    EXTRAVAGANZA 
Enfant !  si  j'^tais  roi,  je  donnerais  I'empire. 

I'D  give,  Girl  (were  I  but  a  king), 
Throne,  sceptre,  empire,  —  everything : 
My  people  suppliant  on  the  knee ; 
My  ships  that  crowd  the  subject  sea; 
My  crown,  my  baths  of  porphyry, 
For  one  sweet  look  from  thee ! 

Were  I  a  god,  I  'd  give  —  the  air. 
Earth,  and  the  sea;  the  angels  fair; 
The  skies;  the  golden  worlds  around  ; 
The  demons  whom  my  laws  have  bound ; 
Chaos  and  its  dark  progeny ; 
All  space  and  all  eternity, 

For  one  love-kiss  from  thee  ! 

Victor  Hugo 


THE   TWO    LOVES 

SMOOTHING  soft  the  nestling  head 
Of  a  maiden  fancy-led. 
Thus  a  grave-eyed  woman  said : 

"  Richest  gifts  are  those  we  make, 
Dearer  than  the  love  we  take 
That  we  give  for  love's  own  sake. 
9  129 


''Well  I  know  the  heart's  unrest; 
Mine  has  been  the  common  quest,  — 
To  be  loved  and  therefore  blest. 

"  Favors  undeserved  were  mine ; 
At  my  feet  as  on  a  shrine 
Love  has  laid  its  gifts  divine. 

"  Sweet  the  offerings  seemed,  and  yet 
With  their  sweetness  came  regret, 
And  a  sense  of  unpaid  debt. 

"  Heart  of  mine  unsatisfied, 
Was  it  vanity  or  pride 
That  a  deeper  joy  denied  ? 

"Hands  that  ope  but  to  receive 
Empty  close ;  they  only  live 
Richly,  who  can  richly  give. 

"  Still,"  she  sighed  with  moistening  eyes, 
"  Love  is  sweet  in  any  guise  ; 
But  its  best  is  sacrifice ! 

"  He  who,  giving,  does  not  crave 
Likest  is  to  Him  who  gave 
Life  itself  the  loved  to  save. 

"  Love,  that  self-forgetful  gives, 
Sows  surprise  of  ripened  sheaves. 
Late  or  soon  its  own  receives." 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 
130 


BETTER   THINGS 

BETTER  to  smell  a  violet 
Than  sip  the  careless  wine ; 
Better  to  list  one  music  tone 
Than  watch  the  jewels'  shine. 

Better  to  have  the  love  of  one 
Than  smiles  like  morning  dew ;  - 

Better  to  have  a  living  seed 
Than  flowers  of  every  hue. 

Better  to  feel  a  love  within 
Than  be  lovely  to  the  sight; 
Better  a  homely  tenderness 
Than  beauty's  wild  delight. 

Better  to  love  than  be  beloved, 
Though  lonely  all  the  day  ; 
Better  the  fountain  in  the  heart 
Than  the  fountain  by  the  way. 

Better  the  thanks  of  one  dear  heart 
Than  a  nation's  voice  of  praise  ; 
Better  the  twilight  ere  the  dawn 
Than  yesterday's  mid-blaze. 

Better  a  death  when  work  is  done 
Than  earth's  most  favored  birth ; 
Better  a  child  in  God's  great  house 
Than  the  king  of  all  the  earth. 

Leigh  Hunt 
131 


FROM  "KATRINA" 


I 


DREW  her  head 
Down  to  my  cheek,  and  said  :  "  My  angel  wife  ! 
Whatever  torment  or  disquietude 
I  may  have  suffered,  you  have  never  been 
Its  cause  or  its  occasion.     You  are  all  — 
You  have  been  all  — that  womanhood  can  be 
To  manhood's  want ;  and  in  your  woman's  love 
And  woman's  pain,  I  have  found  every  good 
My  life  has  known  since  first  our  lives  were  joined. 

JosiAH  Gilbert  Holland 


WEDDED 

HE  took  in  both  hands  her  lovely  head, 
And  looked  in  her  eyes  serene, 
Many  years  married,  but  still  as  fond 
As  the  foolish  boy  had  been. 

And  "  O  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  and  my  love, 
My  dear  sweet  love  and  my  wife. 

If  every  kiss  were  a  golden  coin, 
You  would  be  rich  for  life. 

"  Nay,  if  of  every  kiss  I  have  given 

Each  were  but  a  single  penny. 
You  would  be  rich  with  riches  to  spare  — 

Sweet  wife,  think  how  many,  how  many  !  " 
132 


"Yea,  truly,"  she  said,  "  yet  I  'd  not  barter  one 
While  I  bind  up  my  sheaves  of  caresses; 

But  there  's  many,  oh,  many  a  poor  rich  wife 
Who  would  give  all  of  her  gold  for  the  kisses." 

James  V.  Blake 


LOVE'S   THREAD    OF   GOLD. 

IN  the  night  she  told  a  story, 
In  the  night  and  all  night  through, 
While  the  moon  was  in  her  glory. 

And  the  branches  dropped  with  dew. 
'T  was  my  life  she  told,  and  round  it 

Rose  the  years  as  from  a  deep; 
In  the  world's  great  heart  she  found  it, 

Cradled  like  a  child  asleep. 
In  the  night  I  saw  her  weaving 

By  the  misty  moonbeam  cold. 
All  the  weft  her  shuttle  cleaving 

With  a  sacred  thread  of  gold. 
Ah  !  she  wept  me  tears  of  sorrow, 

Lulling  tears  so  mystic  sweet ; 
Then  she  wove  my  last  to-morrow, 

And  her  web  lay  at  my  feet. 
Of  my  life  she  made  the  story : 

I  must  weep  — so  soon  't  was  told ! 
But  your  name  did  lend  it  glory, 

And  your  love  its  thread  of  gold ! 

Jean  Ingelow 

133 


FROM    "LAY    OF    THE    LAST    MINSTREL" 

IN  peace  love  tunes  the  shepherd's  reed ; 
In  war  he  mounts  the  warrior's  steed  ; 
In  halls  in  gay  attire  is  seen ; 
In  hamlets  dances  on  the  green. 
Love  rules  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove, 
And  men  below,  and  saints  above  ; 
For  Love  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  Love. 

Sir  Walter  Scott 


LOVE   AMONG   THE    RUINS 


WHERE  the  quiet-colored  end  of  evening  smiles 
Miles  and  miles 
On  the  solitary  pastures  where  our  sheep 

Half  asleep 
Tinkle  homeward  thro'  the  twilight,  stray  or  stop 
As  they  crop  — 

ir. 
Was  the  site  once  of  a  city  great  and  gay, 

(So  they  say) 
Of  our  country's  very  capital,  its  prince 

Ages  since 
Held  his  court  in,  gathered  councils,  wielding  far 

Peace  or  war. 

134 


III. 
Now  —  the  country  does  not  even  boast  a  tree, 

As  you  see, 
To  distinguish  slopes  of  verdure,  certain  rills 

From  the  hills 
Intersect  and  give  a  name  to,  (else  they  run 

Into  one) 

IV. 

Where  the  doomed  and  daring  palace  shot  its  spires 

Up  like  fires 
O'er  the  hundred-gated  circuit  of  a  wall 

Bounding  all. 
Made  of  marble,  men  might  march  on  nor  be  prest, 

Twelve  abreast. 

V. 

And  such  plenty  and  perfection,  see,  of  grass 

Never  was  ! 
Such  a  carpet  as,  this  summer-time,  o'erspreads 

And  embeds 
Every  vestige  of  the  city,  guessed  alone. 

Stock  or  stone  — 

VI. 

Where  a  multitude  of  men  breathed  joy  and  woe 

Long  ago ; 
Lust  of  glory  pricked  their  hearts  up,  dread  of  shame 

Struck  them  tame ; 
And  that  glorj'  and  that  shame  alike,  the  gold 

Bought  and  sold. 

13? 


VII. 

Now,  —  the  single  little  turret  that  remains 

On  the  plains, 
By  the  caper  overrooted,  by  the  gourd 

Overscored, 
While  the  patching  houseleek's  head  of  blossoms  winks 

Through  the  chinks  — 

VIII. 

Marks  the  basement  whence  a  tower  in  ancient  time 

Sprang  sublime, 
And  a  burning  ring  all  round,  the  chariots  traced 

As  they  raced, 
And  the  monarch  and  his  minions  and  his  dames 

Viewed  the  games. 

IX. 

And  I  know  while  thus  the  quiet-colored  eve 

Smiles  to  leave 
To  their  folding,  all  our  many-tinkling  fleece 

In  such  peace. 
And  the  slopes  and  the  rills  in  undistinguished  gray 

Melt  away  — 

X. 

That  a  girl  with  eager  eyes  and  yellow  hair 

Waits  me  there 
In  the  turret,  whence  the  charioteers  caught  soul 

For  the  goal. 
When  the  king  looked,  where  she  looks  now,  breath- 
less, dumb 

Till  I  come. 

136 


XI. 

But  he  looked  upon  the  city,  every  side, 

Far  and  wide, 
All  the  mountains  topped  with  temples,  all  the  glades' 

Colonnades, 
All  the  causeys,  bridges,  aqueducts,  —  and  then, 

All  the  men  ! 

XII. 

When  I  do  come,  she  will  speak  not,  she  will  stand, 

Either  hand 
On  my  shoulder,  give  her  eyes  the  first  embrace 

Of  my  face. 
Ere  we  rush,  ere  we  extinguish  sight  and  speech 

Each  on  each. 

XIII. 

In  one  year  they  sent  a  million  fighters  forth 

South  and  north. 
And  they  built  their  gods  a  brazen  pillar  high 

As  the  sky. 
Yet  reserved  a  thousand  chariots  in  full  force  — 

Gold,  of  course. 

XIV. 

Oh,  heart !  oh,  blood  that  freezes,  blood  that  burns ! 

Earth's  returns 
For  whole  centuries  of  folly,  noise,  and  sin  ! 

Shut  them  in. 
With  their  triumphs  and  their  glories  and  the  rest. 
Love  is  best. 

Robert  Browning 
137 


FROM  "THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  LORD'S 
SUPPER" 

LOVE    is   the   root  of    creation;     God's    essence; 
-*        worlds  without  number 
Lie  in  his  bosom  like  children ;   he  made  them  for 

this  purpose  only. 
Only  to  love  and  be  loved  again,  he  breathed  forth 

his  spirit 
Into  the    slumbering   dust,  and   upright   standing,  it 

laid  its 
Hand  on  its  heart,  and  felt  it  was  warm  with  a  flame 

out  of  heaven. 
Quench,  oh,  quench  not  that  flame!     It  is  the  breath 

of  your  being, 
Love  is  life,  but  hatred  is  death. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


EROS 

THE  sense  of  the  world  is  short,  — 
Long  and  various  the  report,  — 
To  love  and  be  beloved  ; 
Men  and  gods  have  not  outlearned  it; 
And,  how  oft  so'er  they  've  turned  it, 
'T  will  not  be  improved. 

Ralph  Waldo  Emerson 


T 


HE  gate  of  Heaven  is  Love,  there  is  none  other. 

Lucy  Larcom 
138 


XI. 


He  sang  out  of  his  soul  what  he  found  there. 
He  sang  of  Love  and  Life  and  Sorrow  and  Death, 
Of  Knowledge  and  of  sweet  Philosophy  ; 
He  sang  how  Love  is  mightiest  of  all  these, 

Henry  Bernard  Carpenter 

Love  is  not  to  be  reasoned  down  or  lost 
In  high  ambition,  and  a  thirst  of  greatness. 
''Tis  second  life,  it  grows  into  the  soul. 
Warms  every  vein,  and  beats  in  every  pulse. 

Joseph  Addison 


I    NEVER   KNEW   IT,    LOVE,   TILL   NOW 

I  ne'er  imagined,  Love,  that  thou 
Wert  such  a  mighty  one ;  at  will, 
Thou  canst  both  faith  and  conscience  bow, 

And  thy  despotic  law  fulfil; 
I  never  knew  it.  Love,  till  now. 

I  thought  I  knew  thee  well,  —  I  thought 

That  I  thy  mazes  had  explored ; 
But  I  within  thy  nets  am  caught, 

And  now  I  own  thee  sovereign  lord. 
I  ne'er  imagined,  Love,  that  thou 

Wert  such  a  mighty  one ;  at  will, 
Thou  bid'st  both  faith  and  conscience  bow, 

And  thy  despotic  law  fulfil ; 
I  never  knew  it,  Love,  till  now. 

Spanish  of  Juan  II.,  King  of  Castile 


LOVE   SCORNS   DEGREES 

LOVE  scorns  degrees  !  the  low  he  lifteth  high. 
The  high  he  draweth  down  to  that  fair  plain 
Whereon,  in  his  divine  equality. 
Two  loving  hearts  may  meet,  nor  meet  in  vain  ; 
'Gainst  such  sweet  levelling  Custom  cries  amain. 
But  o'er  its  harshest  utterance  one  bland  sigh. 
Breathed  passion-wise,  doth  mount  victorious  still, 
For  Love,  earth's  lord  must  have  his  lordly  wilL 
Paul  Hamilton  Hayne 

T4T 


THE   LAST   LETTER 

LONG  years  within  its  sepulchre 
Of  faintly  scented  cedar, 
Has  lain  this  letter,  dear  to  her 
Who  was  its  constant  reader ; 
The  postmark  on  the  envelope 
Sufficed  the  date  to  give  her, 
And  told  the  birth  of  patient  hope 
That  managed  to  outlive  her. 

How  often  to  this  treasure-box. 

Tears  in  her  eyes'  soft  fringes, 
She  came  with  key  and  turned  the  locks. 

And  on  its  brazen  hinges 
Swung  back  the  quaintly  figured  lid, 

And  raised  a  sandal  cover. 
Disclosing,  under  trinkets  hid, 

This  message  from  her  lover. 

Then  lifting  it  as  'twere  a  child. 

Her  hand  awhile  caressed  it 
Ere  to  the  lips  that  sadly  smiled 

Time  and  again  she  pressed  it; 
Then  drew  the  small  enclosure  out 

And  smoothed  the  wrinkled  paper, 
Lest  any  line  should  leave  a  doubt 

Or  any  word  escape  her. 

Still  held  the  olden  charm  its  place 

Amid  the  tender  phrases. 
Time  seemed  unwilling  to  efface 

The  love-pervaded  praises ; 

1.^2 


And  though  a  thousand  lovers  might 
Have  matched  them  all  for  passion, 

A  poet  were  inspired  to  write 
In  their  unstudied  fashion. 

From  "Darling"  slowly,  word  by  word, 

She  reads  the  tear-stained  treasure ; 
The  mists  by  which  her  eyes  were  blurred 

Grew  out  of  pain  and  pleasure  ; 
But  when  she  reached  that  cherished  name, 

And  saw  the  last  leave-taking. 
The  mist  a  storm  of  grief  became  — 

Her  very  heart  was  breaking ! 

I  put  it  back,  —  this  old-time  note 

Which  seems  like  sorrow's  leaven, 
For  she  who  read  and  he  who  wrote. 

Please  God,  are  now  in  heaven. 
If  lovers  of  to-day  could  win 

Such  love  as  won  this  letter, 
The  world  about  us  would  begin 

To  gladden  and  grow  better. 

Frank  Dempster  Sherman 


FOR  they  alone  have  need  of  sorrow, 
And  they  alone  are  poor. 
For  whom,  in  life.  Love's  holy  angel 
Hath  opened  not  her  door. 

Mary  Clemmer 
143 


ALL   THE   YEAR   ROUND 

GO,  time  and  tide,  go  as  you  will  — 
I  cannot  heed  your  ways. 
What  care  I  for  summer  glow, 
What  care  I  for  ice  and  snow, 
When  love  doth  fill  my  days  ? 

Into  its  ark  through  wind  and  rain 

My  heart  flies  as  the  dove; 
Oh,  rosy  is  the  darkened  day 
And  rosy  is  the  stormy  way 

That  lead  me  to  my  Love. 

How  can  I  care  if  leaves  be  green 

Or  gray  with  early  rime  ? 
Love,  ruling,  reigning  in  the  soul 
With  pure  and  passionate  control. 

Makes  its  own  summer-time. 

Ellen  Mackay  Hutchinson 


LOVE   AND    LIFE 

THE  way  is  steep  and  hard  to  tread,  and  drear; 
Piercing  and  bleak  the  icy  atmosphere, 
My  feet  are  bruised  and  bleeding,  and  my  eyes 
Can  only  with  dim  questionings  seek  the  skies. 
How  could  I  walk  a  step  without  thine  aid  ? 
How  face  the  awful  silence  unafraid  ? 
How  bear  the  star-rays  and  the  moon  glance  cold? 
Loose  not  thine  hold  ! 
T/'4 


Earth  and  its  kindly  ways  seem  very  far, 
And  yet  the  shining  skies  no  nearer  are  ; 
Except  for  thee,  dear  Love,  I  could  not  go 
Over  the  hard  rocks,  the  untrodden  snow, 
But  had  sat  down  content  with  lower  things, 
With  scanty  crumbs  and  waning  water-springs,  — 
A  winged  thing,  whose  wings  might  not  unfold. 
Loose  not  thine  hold  ! 

Loose  not  thine  hold !  let  me  feel  all  the  while 
The  quickening  impulse  of  thy  tender  smile 
Luring  me  on,  and  catch,  as  if  in  trance. 
The  lovely  reverence  of  thy  downward  glance, 
The  pity  and  the  splendor  of  thy  face, 
The  recognition  like  a  soft  embrace. 
Until  my  feet  shall  tread  the  streets  of  gold. 
Loose  not  thy  hold  ! 

Sarah  Woolsey 
(Susan  Coolidge) 


THE   HEART'S   CALL 

TE  rides  away  at  early  light, 
Amid  the  tingling  frost. 
And  in  the  mist  that  sweeps  her  sight 
His  form  is  quickly  lost. 


H' 


He  crosses  now  the  silent  stream, 
Now  skirts  the  forest  drear. 

Whose  thickets  cast  a  silver  gleam 
From  leafage  thin  and  sear. 

145 


Long  falls  the  shadow  at  his  back 
(The  morning  springs  before); 

His  thoughts  fly  down  the  shadow'd  track 
And  haunt  his  cottage  door. 

Miles  gone,  upon  the  hilltop  bare 

He  draws  a  sudden  rein ; 
His  name,  her  voice,  rings  on  the  air, 

Then  all  is  still  again ! 

She  sits  at  home,  she  speaks  no  word, 

But  deeply  calls  her  heart ; 
And  this  it  is  that  he  has  heard, 

Though  they  are  miles  apart. 

Edith  M.  Thomas 


MY  JEAN 

THOUGH  cruel  fate  should  bid  us  part. 
Far  as  the  pole  and  line, 
Her  dear  idea  round  my  heart 

Should  tenderly  entwine. 
Though  mountains  rise,  and  deserts  howl. 

And  oceans  roar  between, 
Yet,  dearer  than  my  deathless  soul, 
I  still  would  love  my  Jean. 

Robert  Burns 
146 


FROM    "HAROLD" 

HAROLD. 

/"^ALL  me  not  King,  but  Harold. 

EDITH. 

Nay,  thou  art  King ! 

HAROLD. 

Thine,  thine,  or  King  or  churl ! 

My  girl,  thou  hast  been  weeping :  turn  not  thou 

Thy  face  away,  but  rather  let  me  be 

King  of  the  moment  to  thee,  and  command 

That  kiss  my  due  when  subject,  which  will  make 

My  kingship  kinglier  to  me  than  to  reign 

King  of  the  world  without  it. 

Kiss  me  —  thou  art  not 
A  holy  sister  yet,  my  girl,  to  fear 
There  might  be  more  than  brother  in  my  kiss, 
And  more  than  sister  in  thine  own. 

EDITH. 

I  dare  not. 


HAROLD. 

Edith, 
Hadst  thou  been  braver,  I  had  better  braved 
All — but  I  love  thee  and  thou  me  —  and  that 
Remains  beyond  all  chances  and  all  churches. 
And  that  thou  knowest. 

147 


.      EDITH. 

Ay,  but  take  back  thy  ring. 

It  burns  my  hand  — a  curse  to  thee  and  me. 

I  dare  not  wear  it. 

HAROLD. 

But  I  dare.     God  with  thee! 

\_Exit. 

EDITH. 

The  King  hath  cursed  him,  if  he  marry  me ; 
The  Pope  hath  cursed  him,  marry  me  or  no ! 
God  help  me  !     I  know  nothing  —  can  but  pray 
For  Harold  —  pray,  pray,  pray  —  no  help  but  prayer, 
A  breath  that  fleets  beyond  this  iron  world. 
And  touches  Him  that  made  it. 

Alfred  Tennyson 


AH,  Love  !  let  us  be  true 
To  one  another ;  for  the  world,  which  seems 
To  lie  before*  us  like  a  land  of  dreams, 
So  various,  so  beautiful,  so  new. 
Hath  really  neither  joy,  nor  love,  nor  light. 
Nor  certitude,  nor  peace,  nor  help  for  pain  ; 
And  we  are  here  as  on  a  darkling  plain. 
Swept  with  confused  alarms  of  struggle  and  flight 
Where  ignorant  armies  clash  by  night. 

Matthew  Arnold 
148 


FROM    "EVANGELINE" 

HALF-WAY  down  to  the  shore  Evangeline  waited 
in  silence, 
Not  overcome  with  grief,  but  strong  in  the  hour  of 

affliction,  — 
Calmly  and   sadly  she   waited,  until   the   procession 

approached  her, 
And  she  beheld  the  face  of  Gabriel  pale  with  emotion. 
Tears  then  filled  her  eyes,  and,  eagerly  running  tc 

meet  him, 
Clasped   she   his    hands,  and  laid   her  head   on   his 

shoulder,  and  whispered,  — 
"  Gabriel !    be   of  good   cheer !    for   if  we  love  one 

another, 
Nothing,  in  truth,  can  harm  us,  whatever  mischances 

may  happen ! " 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


LOVE'S    FINAL   POWERS 

THERE  are  strong  powers  of  love  that  early  years 
Know  little  of.  —  All  added  force  of  being 
Gives  love  new,  deeper,  tenderer  eyes  for  seeing. 
And  love  wins  sweetness  from  a  lifetime's  tears. 
All  pangs  and  hopes  and  joys  and  trembling  fears 
Add  strength  to  love.    As  life's  black  darkness  grows. 
Love's  firmer  step  through  that  murk  darkness  goes, 
And  dauntless  over  the  grave's  brink  Love  peers. 
149 


There  are  strange  powers  pf  love  that  youthful  days 
Know  little  of.  —  There  is  a  love  beside 
Whose  strength  the  passion  of  the  ocean  wide 

Is  like  the  ripples  whispering  in  blue  bays : 
A  love  beside  whose  strength  death's  fingers  wild 
Are  weak  as  pink  soft  fingers  of  a  child. 

George  Barlow 


FROM  "ARTEVELDE 

ADRIANA. 


N. 


I  AY,  said  I  not  — 
And  if  I  said  it  not,  I  say  it  now : 
I  '11  follow  thee  through  sunshine  and  through  storm, 
I  will  be  with  thee  in  thy  weal  and  woe. 
In  thy  afflictions,  should  they  fall  upon  thee ; 
In  thy  temptations,  when  bad  men  beset  thee, 
And  should  they  crush  thee,  in  the  hour  of  death, 
Let  but  thy  love  be  with  me  to  the  last. 

ARTEVELDE. 

My  love  is  with  thee  ever ;  that  thou  knowest. 

Henry  Taylor 


^  I 


CANNOT  tell  the  spell  that  binds  thine  image 
Forever  in  my  heart; 
I  only  know  thou  art  to  my  existence 
Its  very,  vital  part. 

Annie  Chambers-Ketchum 

150 


XII. 


Too  full  of  love  my  soul  is  to  find  place 
For  fear  or  anger. 

Edwin  Arnold 

/  do  not  love  thee  less  for  what  is  done 
And  cannot  be  nndotie.     Thy  very  weakness 
Hath  bro7ight  thee  nearer  to  me,  and  henceforth 
My  love  will  have  a  sense  of  pity  in  it 
Making  it  less  a  ivprship  than  before. 

Henry  Wadswortii  Longfellow 


TWO   TRUTHS 

""TAARLING,"  he  said,  "  I  never  meant 
-L-'     To  hurt  you ;  "  and  his  eyes  were  wet. 

"  I  would  not  hurt  you  for  the  world ; 
Am  I  to  blame  if  I  forget  ?  " 

"  Forgive  my  selfish  tears  ! "  she  cried, 
"  Forgive  !  I  knew  that  it  was  not 

Because  you  meant  to  hurt  me,  sweet, — 
I  knew  it  was  that  you  forgot ! " 

But  all  the  same,  deep  in  her  heart 

Rankled  this  thought,  and  rankles  yet,  — 

"  When  love  is  at  its  best,  one  loves 
So  much  that  he  cannot  forget." 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson 


AT  NOON   AND   MIDNIGHT 

FAR  in  the  night,  yet  no  rest  for  him !     The  pillow 
next  his  own 
The  wife's  sweet  face  in  slumber  pressed' — yet  he 

awake,  alone !  alone  ! 
In  vain  he  courted  sleep;  one  thought  would  ever  in 

his  heart  arise,  — 
The  harsh  words  that  at  noon  had  brought  the  tear- 
drops to  her  eyes. 

153 


Slowly  on  lifted  arm  he  raised  and  listened.     All  was 

still  as  death. 
He  touched  her  forehead  as  he  gazed,  and  listened 

yet,  with  bated  breath, 
Still  silently  as   though   he  prayed,  his  lips  moved 

lightly  as  she  slept  — 
For  God  was  with  him,  and  he  laid  his  face  with  hers 

and  wept. 

James  Whitcomb  Riley 


OUR   OWN 

IF  I  had  known  in  the  morning. 
How  wearily  all  the  day 
The  words  unkind  would  trouble  my  mind 

That  I  said  when  you  went  away, 
I  had  been  more  careful,  darling. 

Nor  given  you  needless  pain ; 
But  —  we  vex  our  own  with  look  and  tone 
We  might  never  take  back  again. 

For  though  in  the  quiet  evening 

You  may  give  me  the  kiss  of  peace, 
Yet  it  well  might  be  that  never  for  me 

The  pain  of  the  heart  should  cease ! 
How  many  go  forth  in  the  morning 

Who  never  come  home  at  night, 
And  hearts  have  been  broken  for  harsh  words 
spoken 

That  sorrow  can  ne'er  set  right. 

ISA 


We  have  careful  thought  for  the  stranger, 

And  smiles  for  the  sometime  guest, 
But  oft  for  our  own  the  bitter  tone, 

Though  we  love  our  own  the  best. 
Ah,  lip  with  the  curve  impatient, 

Ah,  brow  with  the  shade  of  scorn, 
'T  were  cruel  fate  were  the  niglit  too  late 

To  undo  the  work  of  morn. 

Margaret  Elizabeth  Sangster 


A   LETTER 

TWO  things  love  can  do, 
Only  two ; 
Can  distrust  or  can  believe ; 
It  can  die  or  it  can  live. 
There  is  no  syncope 
Possible  to  love  or  me. 
Go  your  ways ! 

Two  things  you  can  do. 

Only  two ; 
Be  the  thing  you  used  to  be. 
Or  be  nothing  more  to  me, 
I  can  but  joy  or  grieve. 
Can  no  more  than  die  or  live. 

Go  your  ways ! 

So  far  I  wrote,  my  darling,  drearily, 
But  now  my  sad  pen  falls  down  wearily 
From  out  my  trembling  hand. 


I  did  not,  do  not,  cannot  mean  it,  Dear  ! 
Come  life  or  death,  joy,  grief,  or  hope  or  fear, 
I  bless  you  where  I  stand  ! 

I  bless  you  where  I  stand  excusing  you, 
No  speech  nor  language  for  accusing  you 
My  laggard  lips  can  learn. 

To  you  —  be  what  you  are,  or  can,  to  me  — 
To  you  or  blessedly  or  fatefuUy 
My  heart  must  turn  ! 

Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps 


WE    KISS'D   AGAIN   WITH    TEARS 

AS  thro'  the  land  at  eve  we  went 
And  pluck'd  the  ripen'd  ears, 
We  fell  out,  my  wife  and  I, 
Oh,  we  fell  out,  I  know  not  why, 
And  kiss'd  again  with  tears. 

For  when  we  came  where  lies  the  child 

We  lost  in  other  years, 
There  above  the  little  grave, 
Oh,  there  above  the  little  grave. 
We  kiss'd  again  with  tears. 

Alfred  Tennyson 
IS6 


FORGIVEN 

I  DREAMED  so  dear  a  dream  of  you  last  night ! 
I  thought  you  came.     I  was  so  glad,  so  gay, 
I  whispered,  "  Those  were  foolish  words  to  say ; 
I  meant  them  not.     I  cannot  bear  the  sight 
Of  your  dear  face.     I  cannot  meet  the  light 
Of  your  dear  eyes  upon  me.     Sit,  I  pray,  — 
Sit  here  beside  me ;  turn  your  look  away. 
And  lay  your  cheek  on  mine."     Till  morning  bright 
We  sat  so,  and  we  did  not  speak.     I  knew 
All  was  forgiven ;  so  I  nestled  there 
With  your  arms  round.     Swift  the  sweet  hours  flew. 
At  last  I  waked,  and  sought  you  everywhere. 
How  long,  dear,  think  you,  that  my  glad  cheek  will 
Burn,  —  as  it  burns  with  your  cheek's  pressure  still  ? 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson 


IT  is  n't  the  thing  you  do,  dear. 
It 's  the  thing  you  leave  undone, 
Which  gives  you  a  bit  of  a  heart-ache 

At  the  setting  of  the  sun. 
The  tender  word  forgotten. 
The  letter  you  did  not  write, 
The  flower  you  might  have  sent,  dear, 
Are  your  haunting  ghosts  to-night. 

Margaret  Elizabeth  Sangster 
157 


HER  fittest  triumph  is  to  show  that  good 
Lurks  in  the  heart  of  evil  evermore ; 
That  love,  though  scorned  and  outcast  and  withstood, 
Can  without  end  forgive,  and  yet  have  store. 

James  Russell  Lowell 


XIIL 


Not  to  be  with  you,  not  to  see  your  face, 
Alas  for  me  then,  7ny  good  days  are  done. 

Alfred  Tennyson 

O  friend!  O  best  of  friends  /  Thy  absence  more 
Than  the  impending  night  darkens  the  landscape  o''er  I 
Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 


GONE 

IS  it  the  shrewd  October  wind 
Brings  the  tears  into  her  eyes? 
Does  it  blow  so  strong  that  she  must  fetch 
Her  breath  in  sudden  sighs  ? 

The  sound  of  his  horse's  feet  grows  faint, 
The  Rider  has  passed  from  sight ; 

The  day  glides  out  of  the  crimson  west, 
And  coldly  falls  the  night. 

She  presses  her  tremulous  fingers  tight 

Against  her  closed  eyes, 
And  on  the  lonesome  threshold  there, 

She  cowers  down  and  cries. 

William  Dean  Howells 


FROM   "MICHAEL   ANGELO " 


N< 


I OW  that  she  is  gone, 
Rome  is  no  longer  Rome  till  she  return. 
This  feeling  overmasters  me.     I  know  not 
If  it  be  love,  this  strong  desire  to  be 
Forever  in  her  presence ;  but  I  know 
That  I  who  was  the  friend  of  solitude, 
And  ever  was  best  pleased  when  most  alone. 
Now  weary  grow  of  my  own  company. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 
II  i6i 


ABSENCE 

WHAT  shall  I  do  with  all  the  days  and  hours 
That  must  be  counted  ere  I  see  thy  face  ? 
How  shall  I  charm  the  interval  that  lowers 
Between  this  time,  and  that  sweet  time  of  grace  ? 

Shall  I  in  slumber  steep  each  weary  sense, 
Weary  with  longing?     Shall  I  flee  away 

Into  past  days,  and  with  some  fond  pretence 
Cheat  myself  to  forget  the  present  day  ? 

Shall  love  for  thee  lay  on  my  soul  the  sin 

Of  casting  from  me  God's  great  gift  of  time? 

Shall  I,  these  mists  of  memory  locked  within, 
Leave  and  forget  life's  purposes  sublime  ? 

Oh,  how,  or  by  what  means,  may  I  contrive 
To  bring  the  hour  that  brings  thee  back  more  near? 

How  may  I  teach  my  drooping  hope  to  live 
Until  that  blessed  time,  and  thou  art  here? 

I  '11  tell  thee,  for  thy  sake  I  will  lay  hold 
Of  all  good  aims,  and  consecrate  to  thee 

In  worthy  deeds  each  moment  that  is  told. 
While  thou,  beloved  one !  art  far  from  me. 

For  thee  I  will  arouse  my  thoughts  to  try 

All  heavenward  flights,  all  high  and  holy  strains. 
For  thy  dear  sake  I  will  walk  patiently 
Through  these  long  hours,  nor  call  their  minutes 
pains. 

162 


I  will  this  dreary  blank  of  absence  make 
A  noble  task-time,  and  will  therein  strive 

To  follow  excellence,  and  to  o'ertake 

More  good  than  I  have  won,  since  yet  I  live. 

So  may  this  doomed  time  build  up  in  me 
A  thousand  graces  which  shall  thus  be  thine  ; 

So  may  my  love  and  longing  hallowed  be, 
And  thy  dear  thought  an  influence  divine. 

Frances  Anne  Kemble 


THE   BOAT   OF   MY   LOVER 

OBOAT  of  my  lover!  go  softly,  go  safely, 
O  boat  of  my  lover  that  bears  him  from  me, 
From  the  homes  of  the  clachan,  from  the  burn  singing 
sweetly, 
From  the  loch  and  the  mountain  he  '11  never  more 


0  boat  of  my  lover !  go  softly,  go  safely, 
Thou  bearest  my  soul  with  thee  over  the  tide. 

1  said  not  a  word,  but  my  heart  it  was  breaking ; 
For  life  is  so  short  and  the  ocean  so  wide  ! 

O  boat  of  my  lover !  go  softly,  go  safely, 

Though  the  dear  voice  is  silent,  the  kind  hand  is 
gone; 
But  oh,  love  me,  my  lover,  and  I  '11  live  till  I  find  thee. 
Till  our  parting  is  over,  and  our  dark  days  are  done. 
Dinah  Maria  Muloch-Craik 
163 


THE  LOVED  ONE  EVER  NEAR 

I  THINK  of  thee,  when  the  bright  sunlight  shimmers 
Across  the  sea ; 
When  the  clear  fountain  in  the  moonbeam  glimmers 
I  think  of  thee. 

I  see  thee,  if  far  up  the  pathway  yonder 

The  dust  be  stirred  ; 
If  faint  steps  o'er  the  little  bridge  to  wander 

At  night  be  heard. 

I  hear  thee  when  the  tossing  wave's  low  rumbling 

Creeps  up  the  hill ; 
I  go  to  the  lone  wood  and  listen,  trembling, 

When  all  is  still. 

I  am  with  thee  wherever  thou  art  roaming, — 

And  thou  art  near  ! 
The  sun  goes  down,  and  soon  the  stars  are  coming; 
Would  thou  wert  here ! 

J.   S.    DWIGHT 
Frojn  the  German  of  Goethe 


BUT  oh  !  'twas  hard  to  have  him  go,  —  to  know 
Day  after  day  must  pass  without  one  sight 
Of  him  who  was  so  dear,  so  dear  !  to  pine, 
And  sigh,  and  long  for  one  hand-clasp ;  one  sound 
Of  that  soft,  pleasant  voice,  to  me  so  sweet; 
One  glance  of  those  dear  eyes  I  loved  to  meet. 

Celia  E.  Gardiner 
164 


AMONG   THE    HEATHER 

WINTRY  winds  are  blowing  cold 
On  the  moors  of  purple  heather, 
Where  in  summer  days  of  old 
Hand  in  hand  we  idly  strolled, 

Thou  and  I  together. 
But  those  sunny  days  are  past. 

And  no  more  we  walk  together 
Where  the  snow,  on  every  blast. 
Whirls  above  the  heather. 

On  the  dreary  moorland  now 

In  the  storm  I  wander,  lonely. 
Longing  —  love  alone  knows  how  — 
For  thy  kiss  on  lips  and  brow. 

Longing  for  thee  only ; 
Life  can  bring  me  naught  but  pain 

Till  among  the  purple  heather 
Hand  in  hand  we  walk  again,  — 

Thou  and  I  together  ! 

George  Arnold 


THEY   PARTED 

THEY  parted  —  if  it  be  to  part 
Still  to  live  in  each  other's  heart. 
Forever  one  dear  face  behold. 
Forever  one  dear  form  enfold, 
One  voice  forever  seem  to  hear. 

James  Robinson  Planche 
165 


GOOD-BY,  SWEETHEART 


G( 


rOOD-BY,  Sweetheart. 
I  leave  thee  with  all  loveliest  things 
The  beauty-burdened  springtime  brings,- 
The  anemone  in  snowy  hood, 
The  sweet  arbutus  in  the  wood. 
And  to  the  smiling  skies  above 
I  say,  "  Bend  lightly  o'er  my  love." 
And  to  the  perfume-breathing  breeze 
I  sigh,  "  Sing  softest  symphonies." 

0  lute-like  leaves  of  laden  trees. 
Bear  all  your  sweet  refrain  to  him. 
While  in  the  June-time  twilights  dim 
He  thinks  of  me  as  I  of  him. 

And  so  Good-by,  Sweetheart ! 

Good-by,  Sweetheart. 

1  leave  thee  with  all  purest  things. 
That  when  some  fair  temptation  sings 
Its  luring  song,  though  sore  beset, 
Thou  'It  stronger  be ;  then  no  regret 
Life-long  will  follow  after  thee. 
With  touches  lighter  than  the  air 

I  kiss  thy  forehead  brave  and  fair, 
And  say  to  God  this  last  deep  prayer, 
"  Oh,  guard  him  always  night  and  day. 
So  from  Thy  peace  he  shall  not  stray." 
And  so  Good-by,  Sweetheart. 
1 66 


Good-by,  Sweetheart.    We  seem  to  part ; 
Yet  still  within  my  inmost  heart 
Thou  goest  with  me.     Still  my  place 
I  hold  in  thine  by  love's  dear  grace  ; 
Yet  all  my  life  seems  going  out, 
As  slow  I  turn  my  face  about 
To  go  alone  another  way,  — 
To  be  alone  till  life's  last  day. 
Unless  thy  smile  can  light  my  way. 
Good-by,  Sweetheart.    The  dreaded  dawn 
That  tells  our  love's  long  tryst  is  gone 
Is  purpling  all  the  pallid  sky 
As  loud  I  sigh,  Sweetheart,  good-by ! 

Mary  Clemmer 


O   DAYS   AND   HOURS 

ODAYS  and  hours,  your  work  is  this, 
To  hold  me  from  my  proper  place, 
A  little  while  from  his  embrace 
For  fuller  gain  of  after  bliss ; 

That  out  of  distance  might  ensue 
Desire  of  nearness  doubly  sweet. 
And  unto  meeting  when  we  meet 

Delight  a  hundredfold  accrue, 

For  every  grain  of  sand  that  runs, 
And  every  span  of  shade  that  steals. 
And  every  kiss  of  toothed  wheels 
And  all  the  courses  of  the  suns. 

Alfred  Tennyson 
167 


PARTING   WORDS 

GOOD-BY,  O  love,  once  more  I  hold  your  hand; 
Good-by,  for  now  the  wind  blows  loud  and  long, 
The  ship  is  ready,  and  the  waves  are  strong 

To  bear  me  far  away  from  this  thy  strand. 

I  know  the  sea  that  I  shall  cross,  and  land 
Whereto  I  journey,  and  the  forms  that  throng 
Its  palaces  and  shrines ;  I  know  the  song 

That  they  alone  can  sing  and  understand. 
But  promise  me,  O  love,  before  I  go 
That  sometimes,  when  the  sun  and  wind  are  low, 

You,  walking  in  the  old  familiar  ways. 

Thronged  with  gray  phantoms  of  the  buried  days. 
Will,  looking  seaward,  say,  I  wonder  now 
How  fares  it  with  him  in  the  distant  place. 

Philip  Bourke  Marston 


WORDS    FOR   PARTING 

OH,  what  shall  I  do,  dear, 
In  the  coming  years,  I  wonder. 
When  our  paths  which  lie  so  sweetly  near, 

Shall  lie  so  far  asunder  ? 
Oh,  what  shall  I  do,  dear. 

Through  all  the  sad  to-morrows. 
When  the  sunny  smile  has  ceased  to  cheer 
That  smiles  away  my  sorrows  ? 
1 68 


What  shall  I  do,  my  friend, 

When  you  are  gone  forever  ? 
My  heart  its  eager  need  will  send 

Through  the  years,  to  find  you  never. 
And  how  will  it  be  with  you, 

In  the  weary  world,  I  wonder! 
Will  you  love  me  with  a  love  as  true, 

When  our  paths  lie  far  asunder? 

A  sweeter,  sadder  thing, 

My  life  for  having  known  you : 
Forever  with  my  sacred  kin, 

My  soul's  soul  I  must  own  you,  — 
Forever  mine,  my  friend, 

From  June  to  life's  December, 
Not  mine  to  have  or  hold, 

But  to  pray  for  and  remember. 

The  way  is  short,  O  friend. 

That  reaches  out  before  us. 
God's  tender  heavens  above  us  bend, 

His  love  is  smiling  o'er  us. 
A  little  while  is  ours. 

For  sorrow  or  for  laughter : 
I  '11  lay  the  hand  you  love  in  yours, 

On  the  shore  of  the  hereafter. 

Mary  Clemmer 


169 


XIV. 


Thither  where  he  lies  buried  I 
That  single  spot  is  the  whole  earth  to  me. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge 

Peace,  wild-wrung  hands  !  hush,  sobbittg  breath  ! 
Love  keepeth  its  own  through  life  arid  death. 

Dinah  Maria  Muloch-Craik 


THE   WEDDING    VEIL 

DEAR  Anna,  when  I  brought  her  veil, 
Her  white  veil  on  her  wedding  night, 
Threw  o'er  my  thin  brown  hair  its  folds, 
And  laughing,  turned  me  to  the  light. 

"See,  Bessie,  see  !  you  wear  at  last 
The  bridal  veil  foresworn  for  years  ! " 

She  saw  my  face,  —  her  laugh  was  hushed, 
Her  happy  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

With  kindly  haste  and  trembling  hand 

She  drew  away  the  gauzy  mist ; 
"  Forgive,  dear  heart !  "  her  sweet  voice  said : 

Her  loving  lips  my  forehead  kissed. 

We  passed  from  out  the  searching  light, 
The  summer  night  was  calm  and  fair: 

I  did  not  see  her  pitying  eyes, 

I  felt  her  soft  hand  smooth  my  hair. 

Her  tender  love  unlocked  my  heart : 

'Mid  falling  tears  at  last  I  said, 
"  Foresworn,  indeed,  to  me  that  veil 

Because  I  only  love  the  dead  ! " 

She  stood  one  moment  statue-still, 

And  musing  spake  in  undertone, 
"  The  living  love  may  colder  grow ; 

The  dead  is  safe  with  God  alone." 

Elizabeth  Whittier 

173 


SCOTCH    HEATHER 

JUST  a  sprig  of  Scottish  heather,  in  a  letter  where 
the  tears, 
Which  have  blotted  words  together,  have  been  dried 

these  many  years. 
Loving  lines,  yet  sadly  cheerful,  —  how  "  't  was  lone- 
some here  to-day," 
Then  a  pause,  a  little  tearful,  "  Dear,  you  are  so  far 
away ! " 

Every  sentence  has  its  token  of  a  love  that  could  not 

fail 
Throbbing  with  a  faith  unspoken,  though  the  ink  is 

growing  pale ; 
Faded  are  the  lines  dim-lettered  like  sad  ghosts  upon 

the  page ; 
Ah,  that  poor  love  should  be  fettered  with  the  rusty 

iron  of  age ! 

Then  that  line,  "  I  picked  the  heather  from  that  spot, 

dear,  you  will  know, 
Where  we  walked  and  talked  together  —  oh,  it  seems 

so  long  ago  !  " 
And  at  last,  "  Love,  how  much  better  it  will  be  when, 

by  and  by. 
We  '11  not  need  to  write  a  letter  to  each  other,  you 

and  I ! " 

God !   with  what  another  meaning  that  one  line  has 

long  been  true, 
With  Death's  silence  intervening  since  I  last  have 

heard  from  you, 

174 


When  you  dropped  Life's  weary  fetters,  when  you 

went  so  far  away, — 
Thought  you  of  unwritten  letters  I  was  missing  from 

that  day? 

If   you  know  how  I  have  needed  some   new  token 

through  the  years 
You  have  slept  away  unheeded,  it  must  move  your  soul 

to  tears. 
If  you  still  know  how  I  love  you,  how  I  've  missed  you 

day  by  day, 
Since  the  heather  grew  above  you,  you  could  never 

stay  away. 

Take  all  treasures.  Time,  I  cherish,  Fame  and  Hope 

and  Life  at  last, 
Flitting  things  which  needs  must  perish,  —  spare  this 

memory  of  the  Past 
L)nng  with  a  sprig  of  heather,  in  a  letter,  where  the 

tears 
Which  have  blotted  words  together,  have  been  dried 

these  many  years. 

Marion  Manville 


THE   TWO   LOCKS    OF    HAIR 


A  YOUTH,  light-hearted  and  content, 
I  wander  through  the  world ; 
Here,  Arab-like,  is  pitched  my  tent 
And  straight  again  is  furled. 

^7S 


Yet  oft  I  dream,  that  once  a  wife 

Close  in  my  heart  was  locked, 
And  in  the  sweet  repose  of  life 

A  blessed  child  I  rocked. 

I  wake !     Away  that  dream  —  away ! 

Too  long  did  it  remain ! 
So  long,  that  both  by  night  and  day 

It  ever  comes  again. 

The  end  lies  ever  in  my  thought : 

To  a  grave  so  cold  and  deep 
The  mother  beautiful  was  brought; 

Then  dropt  the  child  asleep. 

But  now  the  dream  is  wholly  o'er,     • 

I  bathe  mine  eyes  and  see ; 
And  wander  through  the  world  once  more, 

A  youth  so  light  and  free. 

Two  locks  —  and  they  are  wondrous  fair  — 

Left  me  that  vision  mild  ; 
The  brown  is  from  the  mother's  hair, 

The  blond  is  from  the  child. 

And  when  I  see  that  lock  of  gold. 

Pale  grows  the  evening  red ; 
And  when  the  dark  lock  I  behold, 
I  wish  that  I  were  dead. 

Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow 
Frotn  the  German  of  Pfizer 


176 


A   SHADOW 

WHAT  lack  the  valleys  and  the  mountains 
That  once  were  green  and  gay  ? 
What  lack  the  babbling  fountains  ? 
Their  voice  is  sad  to-day. 

Only  the  sound  of  a  voice, 
Tender  and  sweet  and  low, 
That  made  the  earth  rejoice 
A  year  ago ! 

What  lack  the  tender  flowers  ? 

A  shadow  is  on  the  sun. 
What  lack  the  merry  hours, 

That  I  long  that  they  were  done  ? 
Only  two  smiling  eyes, 
That  told  of  joy  and  mirth ; 
They  are  shining  in  the  skies ; 
I  mourn  on  earth ! 

What  lacks  my  heart  that  makes  it 

So  weary  and  full  of  pain, 
That  trembling  Hope  forsakes  it. 
Never  to  come  again  ? 
Only  another  heart, 
Tender  and  all  mine  own ; 
In  the  still  grave  it  hes; 
I  weep  alone. 

Adelaide  Anne  Procter 

12  177 


RONDEL 

OUT  of  the  past  remembered  eyes 
Pursue  and  hold  me  fast ; 
Their  dark  pure  splendor  never  dies 

Out  of  the  past. 
Save  the  young  light  that  in  them  lies, 
Time  all  things  fair  doth  blast, 
And  still  unresting  onward  flies  ; 
But  darkly  though  life's  evening  skies 
Their  gathering  shadows  cast, 
Love-light  for  me  shall  ever  rise 
Out  of  the  past. 

Maxwell  Gray 


178 


XV. 


Think  not  in  death  my  love  could  ever  cease ; 

If  thou  wast  false,  more  need  there  is  for  me 

Still  to  be  true. 

James  Russell  Lowell 

There  is  hope  that  is  never  put  by, 
There  is  love  that  refuses  to  die. 

Lucy  Larcom 


T 


THE   UNWISE   CHOICE 

WO  young  men,  when  I  was  poor, 
Came  and  stood  at  my  open  door ; 


One  said  to  me,  "  I  have  gold  to  give ;  " 
And  one,  "  I  will  love  you  while  I  live  ! " 

My  sight  was  dazzled,  woe  's  the  day ! 
And  I  sent  the  poor  young  man  away,  — 

Sent  him  away,  I  know  not  where. 
And  my  heart  went  with  him,  unaware. 

He  did  not  give  me  any  sighs. 
But  he  left  his  picture  in  my  eyes ; 

And  in  my  eyes  it  has  always  been: 
I  have  no  heart  to  keep  it  in ! 

Beside  the  lane  with  hedges  sweet. 
Where  we  parted,  nevermore  to  meet, 

He  pulled  a  flower  of  love's  own  hue, 
And  where  it  had  been  came  out  two ! 

And  in  th'  grass  where  he  stood,  for  years. 
The  dews  of  th'  morning  looked  like  tears. 

Still  smiles  the  house  where  I  was  bom 
Among  its  fields  of  wheat  and  com, 
i8i 


Wheat  and  corn  that  strangers  bind  — 

I  reap  as  I  sowed,  and  I  sowed  to  th'  wind. 

As  one  who  feels  the  truth  break  through 
His  dream,  and  knows  his  dream  untrue, 

I  live  where  splendors  shine,  and  sigh 
For  a  peace  that  splendor  cannot  buy,  — 

Sigh  for  the  day  I  was  rich  tho'  poor, 
And  saw  th'  two  young  men  at  my  door ! 

Alice  Gary 


A   WOMAN'S   DEATH-WOUND 

IT  left  upon  her  tender  flesh  no  trace. 
The  murderer  is  safe.     As  swift  as  light 
The  weapon  fell,  and,  in  the  summer  night, 
Did  scarce  the  silent,  dewy  air  displace; 
'T  was  but  a  word.     A  blow  had  been  less  base. 
Like  dumb  beast  branded  by  an  iron  white 
With  heat,  she  turned  in  blind  and  helpless  flight; 
But  then  remembered,  and  with  piteous  face 
Came  back. 

Since  then  the  world  has  nothing  missed 
In  her,  in  voice  or  smile.     But  she  —  each  day 
She  counts  until  her  dying  be  complete. 
One  moan  she  makes,  and  ever  doth  repeat : 
"  O  lips  that  I  have  loved  and  kissed  and  kissed, 
Did  I  deserve  to  die  this  bitterest  way  ?  " 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
182 


A   WOMAN'S   THOUGHT 

I  AM  a  woman  —  therefore  I  may  not 
Call  to  him,  cry  to  him, 
Fly  to  him, 
Bid  him  delay  not ! 

And  when  he  comes  to  me,  I  must  sit  quiet, 

Still  as  a  stone, 

All  silent  and  cold. 

If  my  heart  riot, 

Crush  and  defy  it ! 

Should  I  grow  bold  — 

Say  one  dear  thing  to  him, 

All  my  life  fling  to  him, 

Cling  to  him  — 

What  to  atone 

Is  enough  for  my  sinning! 

This  were  the  cost  to  me, 

This  were  my  winning,  — 

That  he  were  lost  to  me. 

Not  as  a  lover 
At  last  if  he  part  from  me. 
Tearing  my  heart  from  me, 
Hurt  beyond  cure,  — 
Calm  and  demure 
Then  must  I  hold  me, 
In  myself  fold  me. 
Lest  he  discover; 

183 


Showing  no  sign  to  him, 
By  look  of  mine  to  him, 
What  he  has  been  to  me,  — 
How  my  heart  turns  to  him, 
Follows  him,  yearns  to  him, 
Prays  him  to  love  me,  — 
Pity  me,  lean  to  me. 
Thou  God  above  me  ! 

Richard  Watson  Gilder 


BURNT   SHIPS 

OLOVE,  sweet  Love,  who  came  with  rosy  sail 
And  foaming  prow  across  the  misty  sea ! 
O  Love,  brave  Love,  whose  faith  was  full  and  free 

That  lands  of  sun  and  gold,  which  could  not  fail. 
Lay  in  the  west,  that  bloom  no  wintry  gale 

Could    blight,    and    eyes   whose    love    thine    own 
should  be, 
Called  thee,  with  steadfast  voice  of  prophecy. 
To  shores  unknown ! 

O  Love,  poor  Love,  avail 
Thee  nothing  now  thy  faiths,  thy  braveries ; 
There  is  no  sun,  no  bloom ;  a  cold  wind  strips 
The  bitter  foam  from  off  the  wave  where  dips 
No  more  thy  prow ;  the  eyes  are  hostile  eyes; 
The  gold  is  hidden;  vain  thy  tears  and  cries. 
O  Love,  poor  Love,  why  didst  thou  burn  thy  ships? 

Helen  Hunt  Jackson 
184 


PRESAGE 

IF,  some  day,  I  should  seek  those  eyes 
So  gentle  now,  and  find  the  strange, 
Pale  shadow  of  a  coming  change, 
To  chill  me  with  sad  surprise : 

Shouldst  thou  recall  what  thou  hast  given, 
And  turn  me  slowly  cold  and  dumb. 
And  thou  thyself  again  become 

Remote  as  any  star  in  heaven,  — 

Would  the  sky  ever  seem  again 

Perfectly  clear?    Would  the  serene. 
Sweet  face  of  Nature  steal  between 

This  grief  and  me,  to  dull  its  pain  ? 

Oh,  not  for  many  a  weary  day 

Would  sorrow  soften  to  regret; 

And  many  a  sun  would  rise  and  set 
Ere  I,  with  cheerful  heart,  could  say  : 

"  All  undeserved  it  came.     To-day 

God  takes  it  back  again,  because 

Too  beautiful  a  thing  it  was 
For  such  as  I  to  keep  for  aye." 

And  ever,  through  the  coming  years, 
My  star  remote  in  happy  skies 
Would  seem  more  heavenly  fair  through  eyes 
Yet  tremulous  with  unfallen  tears. 

Celia  Thaxter 
i8s 


XVI. 


Perhaps  it  will  all  come  right  at  last: 

It  may  be,  when  all  is  done, 
We  shall  be  together  in  some  good  world 

Where  to  wish  and  to  have  are  one. 

Richard  Henry  Stoddard 


A   LIFE   LESSON 

''pHERE,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 
^     They  have  broken  your  doll,  I  know ; 
And  your  tea-set  blue, 
And  your  play-house,  too. 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago  ; 

But  childish  troubles  will  soon  pass  by  — 
There,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 

There,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 

They  have  broken  your  slate,  I  know ; 
And  the  glad,  wild  ways 
Of  your  school-girl  days 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago  ; 
But  life  and  love  will  soon  come  by  — 
There,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 

There,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 
They  have  broken  your  heart,  I  know ; 
And  the  rainbow  gleams 
Of  your  youthful  dreams 
Are  things  of  the  long  ago ; 

But  heaven  holds  all  for  which  you  sigh  — 
There,  little  girl,  don't  cry  ! 

James  Whitcomb  Riley 


I  CANNOT  THINK  BUT  GOD  MUST  KNOW 

I  CAN  NOT  think  but  God  must  know 
About  the  thing  I  long  for  so ; 
I  know  He  is  so  good,  so  kind, 
I  cannot  think  but  He  will  find 
Some  way  to  help,  some  way  to  show 
'Me  to  the  thing  I  long  for  so. 

I  stretch  my  hand  —  it  lies  so  near ; 
It  looks  so  sweet ;  it  looks  so  dear. 
"Dear  Lord,"  I  pray,  "oh,  let  me  know 
If  it  is  wrong  to  want  it  so  !  " 
He  only  smiles  —  He  does  not  speak  ; 
My  heart  grows  weaker  and  more  weak 
With  looking  at  the  thing  so  dear, 
Which  lies  so  far  and  yet  so  near. 

Now,  Lord,  I  leave  at  Thy  loved  feet 
This  thing  which  looks  so  near,  so  sweet; 
I  will  not  seek,  I  will  not  long,  — 
I  almost  fear  I  have  been  wrong. 
I  '11  go  and  work  the  harder.  Lord, 
And  wait  till  by  some  loud,  clear  word 
Thou  callest  me  to  Thy  loved  feet 
To  take  this  thing  so  dear,  so  sweet. 

Saxe  Holm 

190 


DIVIDED 

AND  yet  I  know  past  all  doubting,  truly  — 
And  knowledge  greater  than  grief  can  dim  — 
I  know,  as  he  loved,  he  will  love  me  duly  — 
Yea,  better  —  e'en  better  than  I  love  him. 

And  as  I  walk  by  the  vast  calm  river, 

The  awful  river  so  dread  to  see, 
I  say,  "  Thy  breadth  and  thy  depth  forever 

Are  bridged  by  his  thoughts  that  cross  to  me." 

Jean  Ingelow 


I    HEAR   A   DEAR,  FAMILIAR   TONE 

T  HEAR  a  dear,  familiar  tone, 
-^  A  loving  hand  is  in  my  own. 
And  earth  seems  made  for  me  alone. 

If  I  my  fortunes  could  have  planned, 
I  would  not  have  let  go  that  hand; 
But  they  must  fall  who  learn  to  stand. 

And  how  to  blend  life's  varied  hues. 
What  ill  to  find,  what  good  to  lose, 
My  Father  knoweth  best  to  choose. 

Alice  Cary 
191 


FROM  "EVANGELINE" 

SOMETIMES  she  spake  with  those  who  had  seen 
her  beloved  and  known  him, 
But  it  was  long  ago  in  some  far-off  place  or  forgotten. 


Then  would  they  say,  "  Dear  child !   why  dream  and 

wait  for  him  longer  ? 
Are  there  not  other  youths  as  fair  as  Gabriel?  others 
Who  have  hearts  as  tender  and  true,  and  spirits  as 

loyal  ? 
Here  is  Baptiste  Leblanc,  the  notary's  son,  who  has 

loved  thee 
Many  a  tedious  year ;  come,  give  him  thy  hand  and  be 

happy. 
Thou  art  too  fair  to  be  left  to  braid  Saint  Catherine's 

tresses." 
Then  would  Evangeline  answer,  serenely  but  sadly, 

"  I  cannot ! 
Whither  my  heart  has  gone  there  follows  my  hand,  and 

not  elsewhere. 
For  when  the  heart  goes  before,  like  a  lamp,   and 

illumines  the  pathway, 
Many  things  are  made  clear,  that  else  lie  hidden  in 

darkness." 
Thereupon  the  priest,  her  friend  and  father-confessor. 
Said,   with    a    smile,    "O    daughter!    thy   God    thus 

speaketh  within  thee  ! 
Talk  not  of  wasted  affection,  —  affection  never  was 

wasted ; 

192 


If  it  enrich  not  the  heart  of  another,  its  waters,  return- 
ing 
Back  to  their  springs,  like  the  rain,  shall  fill  them  full 

of  refreshment; 
That  which  the  fountain  sends  forth  returns  again  to 

the  fountain. 
Patience  !  accomplish  thy  labor,  accomplish  thy  work 

of  affection ! 
Sorrow  and  silence  are  strong,  and  patient  endurance 

is  godlike, 
Therefore  accomplish  thy  labor  of  love,  till  the  heart 

is  made  godlike. 
Purified,  strengthened,  perfected,  and  rendered  more 

worthy  of  heaven  !  " 
Cheered  by  the  good  man's  words,  Evangeline  labored 

and  waited. 
Still  in  her  heart  she  heard  the  funeral  dirge  of  the 

ocean, 
But  with  its  sound  there  was  mingled  a  voice  that 

whispered,  "  Despair  not !  " 

Henry  Wadsworth  LOxXGfellow 


WHICH    IS    BEST? 


WHAT  if  I  saved  from  trampling  feet 
The  drooping  plumes  of  a  wounded  bird, 
And  tended  its  hurt  with  a  gentle  hand 
Till  its  life  new  stirred  ? 
13  193 


What  if  it  nestled  against  my  clieek, 
And  tamed  its  shyness  upon  my  breast, 

Until  I  believed  that  it  loved  me  more 
Than  its  old-time  nest  ? 

And  if  some  day,  when  I  prized  it  most, 

It  should  leave  my  hand  with  a  sudden  spring, 

And  cleave  the  blue  of  a  summer  sky 
With  a  freshened  wing, 

And  never  pause  at  my  pleading  call,  — 
Never  come  back  to  my  desolate  breast,  — 

And  forget  I  had  saved  its  life,  and  forget 
I  had  loved  it  best, 

Should  I  never  open  my  arms  again 
To  any  helpless  or  suffering  thing? 

Never  bind  up  the  bruised  heart 
Nor  the  broken  wing  ? 

Better  a  thousand  times,  to  bear 
A  blow  in  the  place  of  an  earned  caress, 

Than  to  turn  aside  into  selfish  ways, 
Or  to  pity  less. 

Better  the  long  abiding  pain 

Of  a  wronged  love,  in  its  sufferance  meek, 
Than  the  hardened  heart  and  the  bitter  tongue 

And  the  sullen  cheek. 

Laura  C.  Redden 


194 


THORNLESS   ROSES 

"  1\T^  ^^^^  "^^y  bloom  without  a  thorn? " 
■i-  ^    Come  down  the  garden  path  and  see 
How  brightly  in  the  scented  air 
They  bloom  for  you  and  me  ! 

See  how  like  rosy  clouds,  they  lie 
Against  the  perfect,  stainless  blue  ! 

See  how  they  toss  their  airy  heads. 
And  smile  for  me,  for  you  ! 

No  scanty  largess,  meanly  doled,  — 
No  pallid  blooms,  by  two,  by  three. 

But  a  whole  crowd  of  pink-white  wings 
Fluttering  for  you  and  me. 

So  fair  they  are  I  cannot  choose; 

I  pluck  the  rich  spoils  here  and  there; 
I  heap  them  on  your  waiting  arms ; 

I  twine  them  in  your  hair. 

There  is  no  thorn  among  them  all,  — 
No  sharp  sting  in  the  heart  of  bliss,  — 

No  bitter  in  the  honeyed  cup,  — 
No  burning  in  the  kiss. 

Nay,  quote  the  proverb  if  you  must, 

And  mock  the  truth  you  will  not  see ; 
Nathless,  Love's  thornless  roses  blow 
Somewhere  for  you  and  me. 

Julia  C.  R.  Dorr 
19s 


I    HAVE   THE   COURAGE   TO    BE   GAY 

"  T  HAVE  the  courage  to  be  gay, 
-L      Although  she  lieth  lapped  away 
Under  the  daisies,  for  I  say, 

'  Thou  wouldst  be  glad  if  thou  couldst  see : ' 
My  constant  thought  makes  manifest 
I  have  not  what  I  love  the  best, 
But  I  must  thank  God  for  the  rest 
While  I  hold  heaven  a  verity." 

Jean  Ingelow 


Oi 


WHAT   SEQUEL? 


'F  Love  that  never  found  its  earthly  end, 
What  sequel  ?  streaming  eyes  and  broken  hearts? 
And  all  the  same  as  if  it  had  not  been  ? 

Alfred  Tennyson 


NAUGHT  is  the  same  "  as  if  Love  had  not  been  ! " 
Where  it  hath  shone  it  is  like  sianlight  poured 
On  seeds  which  slept,  surprising  naked  soil 
Into  new  verdure,  and  an  unhoped  spring. 

Edwin  Arnold 


196 


XVII. 


Love  is  come  with  a  song  and  a  smile, 
Welcome  Love  with  a  smile  and  a  song. 
Love  can  stay  but  a  little  while, 
Why  cannot  he  stay  ?     They  call  him  away  ; 
Ye  do  him  wrong,  ye  do  him  wrottg; 
Love  will  stay  for  a  whole  life  long. 

Alfred  Tennyson 


IN   TWOS 

SOMEWHERE  in  the  world  there  hide 
Garden-gates  that  no  one  sees. 
Save  they  come  in  happy  twos,  — 
Not  in  ones,  nor  yet  in  threes. 

But  from  every  maiden's  door 
Leads  a  pathway  straight  and  true; 
Map  and  survey  find  it  not,  — 
He  who  finds,  finds  room  for  two. 

Then  they  see  the  garden-gates  ! 
Never  skies  so  blue  as  theirs. 
Never  flowers  so  many,  sweet. 
As  for  those  who  come  in  pairs. 

Round  and  round  the  alleys  wind ; 
Now  a  cradle  bars  the  way. 
Now  a  httle  mound,  behind,  — 
So  the  two  go  through  the  day. 

When  no  nook  in  all  the  lanes 
But  has  heard  a  song  or  sigh, 
Lo !  another  garden-gate 
Opens  as  the  two  go  by. 

In  they  wander,  knowing  not; 
"  Five  and  Twenty  "  fills  the  air 
With  a  silvery  echo  low, 
AH  about  the  startled  pair. 
199 


Happier  yet  these  garden  walks; 
Closer,  heart  to  heart,  they  lean ; 
Stiller,  softer,  falls  the  light ; 
Few  the  twos,  and  far  between, 

Till  at  last  as  on  they  pass 
Down  the  paths  so  well  they  know, 
Once  again  at  hidden  gates 
Stand  the  two ;  they  enter  slow. 

Golden  gates  of  Fifty  Years, 
May  our  two  your  latchet  press  ! 
Garden  of  the  Sunset  Land, 
Hold  their  dearest  happiness ! 

Then  a  quiet  walk  again ; 
Then  a  wicket  in  the  wall; 
Then  one  stepping  on  alone,  — 
Then  two  at  the  Heart  of  All ! 

W.  C.  Gannett 


OHE  was  sent  forth 
To  bring  that  light  which  never  wintry  blast 
Blows  out,  nor  rain,  nor  snow,  extinguishes, — 
The  hght  which  shines  with  loving  eyes  upon 
Eyes  that  love  back,  till  they  can  see  no  more. 

Letitia  Elizabeth  Landon 


SONG 

LOVE  is  not  a  feeling  to  pass  away, 
Like  the  balmy  breath  of  a  summer-day ; 
It  is  not  —  it  cannot  be  —  laid  aside ; 
It  is  not  a  thing  to  forget  or  hide. 
It  clings  to  the  heart,  ah,  woe  is  me ! 
As  the  ivy  clings  to  the  old  oak  tree. 

Love  is  not  a  passion  of  earthly  mould, 
As  a  thirst  for  honor,  or  fame,  or  gold  ; 
For  when  all  these  wishes  have  died  away, 
The  deep  strong  love  of  a  brighter  day, 
Though  nourished  in  secret,  consumes  the  more, 
As  the  slow  rust  eats  to  the  iron's  core. 

Charles  Dickens 


TOGETHER 

THEY  were  young  and  glad  together 
In  the  dawn  of  life's  first  May, 
When  in  bright  and  sunny  weather 
Sang  the  birds  from  every  spray. 
Clear  the  heaven  shone  out  above  them ; 

Blue  and  radiant  were  the  skies  ; 
All  things  living  seemed  to  love  them ; 
And  the  spring  gleamed  in  her  eyes. 

201 


Through  life's  summer  still  together, 

Hand  in  hand  and  heart  to  heart, 
They  have  borne  the  sultry  weather 

And  have  watched  the  days  depart. 
Still  she  is  to  him  the  maiden 

Who  stepped  daintily  of  old 
Through  the  grass,  her  apron  laden 

With  bright  buttercups  of  gold. 

Still  together,  still  together, 

They  will  face  life's  autumn  hours ; 
In  the  grim  November  weather 

Love  will  strew  their  path  with  flowers. 
For  their  love  has  ever  brightened 

Since  the  first  long  loving  day. 
And  their  happiness  has  heightened, 

Though  their  hair  is  growing  gray ! 

George  Barlow 


FROM   "ENOCH    ARDEN" 

WOMAN,  disturb  me  not  now  at  the  last. 
But  let  me  hold  my  purpose  till  I  die, 
Sit  down  again ;  mark  me  and  understand, 
While  I  have  power  to  speak.     I  charge  you  now 
When  you  shall  see  her  tell  her  that  T  died 
Blessing  her,  praying  for  her,  loving  her 
Save  for  the  bar  between  us,  loving  her 
As  when  she  laid  her  head  beside  my  own. 

Alfred  Tennyson 
202 


TWO   EPOCHS 

LOVERS  by  a  dim  sea  strand 
Looking  wave-ward,  hand  in  hand; 
Silent,  tremble  with  the  bliss 
Of  their  first  betrothal  kiss. 

Lovers  still,  tho'  wedded  long ! 
Time  true  love  can  never  wrong ! 
Gazing,  faithful,  hand  in  hand, 
O'er  a  darker  sea  and  strand  : 

Ah  !  one  lover's  face  is  wan 
As  a  wave  the  moon  shines  on ; 
But  those  strange  tides  stretched  afar 
Know  not  sun,  nor  moon,  nor  star. 

Paul  Hamilton  Hayne 


203 


XVIIL 


O  winds !  ye  are  too  rough,  too  rough  f 
O  spring  !  thou  art  not  long  enough 

For  sweetness  J  and  for  thee, 
O  love  !  thou  still  must  overpass 
Time's  low  and  dark  and  narrow  glass, 

And  Jill  eternity. 


Alice  Gary 


LOVE   AND   DEATH 

WHAT  time  the  mighty  moon  was  gathering  light 
Love  paced  the  thymy  plots  of  Paradise, 
And  all  about  him  roll'd  his  lustrous  eyes ; 
When,  turning  round  a  cassia,  full  in  view 
Death,  walking  all  alone  beneath  a  yew. 
And  talking  to  himself,  first  met  his  sight. 
"You  must  begone,"  said  Death,   "these  walks  are 

mine." 
Love  wept,  and  spread  his  sheeny  vans  for  flight; 
Yet  ere  he  parted  said,  "  This  hour  is  thine ; 
Thou  art  the  shadow  of  life,  and  as  the  tree 
Stands  in  the  sun  and  shadows  all  beneath. 
So  in  the  light  of  great  eternity 
Life  eminent  creates  the  shade  of  death ; 
The  shadow  passeth  when  the  tree  shall  fall. 
But  I  shall  reign  forever  over  all." 

Alfred  Tennyson 


AFTER-SONG 

THROUGH  love  to  light !     Oh,  wonderful  the  way 
That  leads  from  darkness  to  the  perfect  day ! 
From  darkness  and  from  sorrow  of  the  night 
To  morning  that  comes  singing  o'er  the  sea. 
Through  love  to   light!      Through  light,  O  God,  to 

Thee, 
Who  art  the  love  of  love,  the  eternal  light  of  light ! 

Richard  Watson  Gilder 
207 


FROM    "THE   SINGER" 

O  SI  LENT  land  to  which  we  move, 
Enough  if  there  alone  be  love ; 
And  mortal  need  can  ne'er  outgrow 
What  it  is  waiting  to  bestow! 

O  white  soul !  from  that  far-off  shore 
Float  some  sweet  song  the  waters  o'er; 
Our  faith  confirm,  our  fears  dispel, 
With  the  old  voice  we  loved  so  well ! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 


FROM    "SNOW-BOUND" 

YET  love  will  dream  and  faith  will  trust 
(Since  He  who  knows  our  need  is  just). 
That  somehow,  somewhere  meet  we  must. 
Alas  for  him  who  never  sees 
The  stars  shine  through  his  cypress  trees ! 
Who  hopeless  lays  his  dead  away, 
Nor  looks  to  see  the  breaking  day 
Across  the  mournful  marbles  play  ! 
Who  hath  not  learned  in  hours  of  faith. 

The  truth  to  flesh  and  sense  unknown, 
That  Life  is  ever  lord  of  Death 
And  Love  can  never  lose  its  own ! 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 
208 


THREE    MEETINGS 

OTHE  happy  meeting  from  over  the  sea, 
When  I  love  my  friend  and  my  friend  loves  me; 
And  we  stand  face  to  face,  and  for  letters  read 
There  are  endless  words  to  be  heard  and  said : 
With    a  glance    between   whiles,   shy,    anxious,   half 

strange. 
As  if  asking,  "  Say  now  is  there  any  change?" 
Till  we  settle  down  just  as  we  used  to  be, 
For  I  love  my  friend  and  my  friend  loves  me. 

O  the  blessed  meeting  of  lovers  true 

Against  whom  Fate  has  done  all  that  Fate  could  do 

And  then  dropped  vanquished  ;  while  over  those  slain 

Dead  weeks,  months,  years,  of  parting  and  pain, 

Hope  lifts  her  banner,  gay,  gallant,  and  fair, 

Untainted,  untorn  in  the  balmy  air; 

And  the  heaven  of  the  future,  golden  and  bright. 

Arches  above  them  —  God  guards  the  right. 

But  O  for  the  meeting  to  come  one  day, 
When  the  spirit  slips  out  of  its  house  of  clay ; 
When  the  standers-by  with  a  gentle  sign 
Shall  kindly  cover  this  face  of  mine. 
And  I  leap  — whither  ?  —  ah,  who  can  know? 
But  outward,  onward,  as  spirits  must  go, 
Till  eye  to  eye  without  fear  I  see 
God  —  and  my  lost  —  as  they  see  me. 

Dinah  Maria  Muloch-Craik 
14  209 


LOVE   IS    ETERNAL 

LOVE  is  eternal,  so  the  strong  souls  say, 
But  seeing  how  hard  life  doth  give  the  lie 
Unto  the  mighty  words,  with  sneer  or  sigh, 
The  weaker  ones  cry  out  in  sad  dismay 
That  love  is  changeful  as  an  April  day. 
Holding  within  itself  no  strength  whereby 
It  can  the  subtle  shafts  of  time  defy. 
And  in  the  heart  of  man  abide  alway. 

Not  every  heart  is  great  enough  to  hold 
A  great  immortal  tenant.     Love  hath  fled 

Always  from  natures  narrow,  weak,  and  cold. 
Know,  when  by  scornful  lips  you  hear  it  said 

That  Love  is  traitor,  that  the  truth  is  told 
Not  of  dear  Love,  but  of  that  soul  instead. 

Carlotta  Perry 


THERE  will  I  ask  of  Christ  the  Lord 
Thus  much  for  him  and  me,  — 
Only  to  live  as  once  on  earth 

With  Love,  —  only  to  be. 
As  then  awhile,  forever  now 
Together,  I  and  he. 

Dante  Gabriel  Rossetti 

210 


A    FAREWELL 

THE  west-wind,  laden  with  fragrance,  blows. 
The  dewdrops  shine  in  the  crimson  rose ; 

—  Is  there  something  yet  to  tell? 
Ay,  winds  must  pass  and  dewdrops  fall ; 
Naught  that  is  gone  can  we  recall : 

So  now,  dear  Love,  farewell ! 
/ 

Sweet  lips  prattle,  and  laugh  and  sing, 
White  arms  tenderly,  closely  cling ; 

—  Is  there  something  sad  to  tell  ? 
Ay,  the  sweet  lips  shall  silent  be, 
And  the  arms  unclasp  in  their  agony: 

So  now,  dear  Love,  farewell ! 

Then  is  there  nothing  that  God  has  made 
That  will  not  one  day  fall  or  fade  ? 

—  O  Poet,  in  mercy  tell ! 

Ay,  love  shall  reign  in  these  hearts  of  ours 
When  eyes,  and  lips,  and  wind-waved  flowers 
Have  known  their  last  farewell. 

For  love  is  purer  than  dewdrops  are. 
The  winds  go  never  so  wide  and  far, 

And  none  may  truly  tell 
How  when  the  close  caress  is  gone. 
And  words  are  silent,  true  love  lives  on. 

Never  to  say  farewell ! 

George  Arnold 

211 


FROM   "TO    LYDIA   MARIA   CHILD" 

STILL  on  the  lips  of  all  we  question 
The  finger  of  God's  silence  lies ; 
Will  the  lost  hands  in  ours  be  folded  ? 
Will  the  shut  eyelids  ever  rise  ? 

O  friend,  no  proof  beyond  this  yearning, 
This  outreach  of  our  hearts  we  need ; 

God  will  not  mock  the  hope  he  giveth, 
No  love  he  prompts  shall  vainly  plead. 

Then  let  us  stretch  our  hands  in  darkness, 
And  call  our  loved  ones  o'er  and  o'er ; 

Some  day  their  arms  shall  close  about  us, 
And  the  old  voices  speak  once  more. 

John  Greenleaf  Whittier 


O 


LOVE  and  Death ! 
Ye  have  sad  meetings  on  this  changeful  earth, 
Many  and  sad  !  —  but  airs  of  heavenly  breath 

Shall  melt  the  links  that  bind  you,  for  your  birth 
Is  far  apart. 

Felicia  Dorothea  Hemans 


N 


OT  Death  is  strong  enough  to  part  asunder 
Whom  Life  and  Love  hath  joined. 

Edwin  Arnold 

2X2 


HE   AND    SHE 

"  OHE  is  dead ! "  they  said  to  him,  "  Come  away; 
^   Kiss  her!  and  leave  her! — thy  love  is  clay!" 

They  smoothed  her  tresses  of  dark  brown  hair ; 
On  her  forehead  of  marble  they  laid  it  fair ; 

Over  her  eyes,  which  gazed  too  much. 
They  drew  her  lids  with  gentle  touch ; 

With  a  tender  touch  they  closed  up  well 
The  sweet  thin  lips  that  had  secrets  to  tell ; 

About  her  brows,  and  her  dear,  pale  face 
They  tied  her  veil  and  her  marriage-lace ; 

And  drew  on  her  white  feet  her  white  silk  shoes:  — 
Which  were  the  whiter  no  eye  could  choose  ! 

And  over  her  bosom  they  crossed  her  hands ; 
"  Come  away,"  they  said,  "  God  understands  ! " 

And  then  there  was  Silence ;  and  nothing  there 
But  the  Silence  —  and  scents  of  eglantere. 

And  jasmine,  and  roses,  and  rosemary; 

For  they  said,  "  As  a  lady  should  lie,  lies  she  !  " 

And  they  held  their  breath  as  they  left  the  room 
With  a  shudder  to  glance  at  its  stillness  and  gloom. 
213 


But  he  —  who  loved  her  too  well  to  dread 
The  sweet,  the  stately,  the  beautiful  dead,  — 

He  lit  his  lamp,  and  took  the  key, 

And  turn'd  it !  —  alone  again  —  he  and  she  ! 

He  and  she  !  but  she  would  not  speak, 

Though  he  kiss'd  in  the  old  place,  the  quiet  cheek: 

He  and  she ;  yet  she  would  not  smile, 
Though  he  call'd  her  the  name  that  was  fondest  cr< 
while : 

He  and  she ;  and  she  did  not  move 
To  any  one  passionate  whisper  of  love ! 

Then  said,  "  Cold  lips  !  and  breast  without  breath ! 
Is  there  no  voice  —  no  language  of  death 

"  Dumb  to  the  ear  and  still  to  the  sense, 
But  to  heart  and  to  soul  distinct,  —  intense  ? 

"  See,  now, —  I  listen  with  soul,  not  ear  — 
What  was  the  secret  of  dying,  Dear  ? 

"  Was  it  the  infinite  wonder  of  all. 

How  the  spirit  could  let  life's  flower  fall  ? 

"  Or  was  it  a  greater  marvel  to  feel 
The  perfect  calm  o'er  the  agony  steal  ? 

"  Was  the  miracle  greatest  to  find  how  deep, 
Beyond  all  dreams,  sank  downward  that  sleep  ? 
214 


"  Did  life  roll  backward  its  record,  Dear, 

And  show,  as  they  say  it  does,  past  things  clear? 

"  And  was  it  the  innermost  heart  of  bliss 
To  find  out  so  what  a  wisdom  love  is  ? 

"  Oh,  perfect  Dead  !  oh,  dead  most  dear, 
I  hold  the  breath  of  my  soul  to  hear; 

"  I  listen  —  as  deep  as  to  horrible  hell. 

As  high  as  glad  heaven ;  and  you  do  not  tell ! 

"  There  must  be  pleasure  in  dying,  Sweet, 
To  make  you  so  placid  from  head  to  feet ! 

"  I  would  tel\yo7(,  Darling,  if  I  were  dead. 
And  't  were  your  hot  tears  upon  my  brow  shed. 

"  I  would  say  though  the  Angel  of  death  had  laid 
His  sword  on  my  lips  to  keep  it  unsaid. 

"  You  should  not  ask,  vainly,  with  streaming  eyes, 
Which  in  Death's  touch  was  the  chiefest  surprise, 

"  The  very  strangest  and  suddenest  thing 
Of  all  the  surprises  that  dying  must  bring." 

Oh,  foolish  world  !     Oh,  most  kind  dead  ! 
Though  he  told  me,  who  will  believe  it  was  said  ? 

Who  will  believe  that  he  heard  her  say, 
With  the  soft  rich  voice,  in  the  dear  old  way  ; 

215 


"  The  utmost  wonder  is  this,  —  I  hear, 

And  see  you,  and  love  you,  and  kiss  you.  Dear  ; 

"  I  can  speak,  now  you  listen  with  soul  alone ; 
If  your  soul  could  see,  it  would  all  be  shown 

"  What  a  strange,  delicious  amazement  is  Death, 
To  be  without  body  and  breathe  without  breath. 

"  I  should  laugh  for  joy  if  you  did  not  cry ; 
Oh,  listen  ;  Love  lasts  !  —  Love  never  will  die  ! 

"  I  am  only  your  Angel  who  was  your  Bride ! 
And  I  know  that  though  dead  I  have  never  died." 

Edwin  Arnold 


THE   VIOLET 

GOD  does  not  send  us  strange  flowers  every  year, 
When  the  spring  winds  blow  o'er  the  pleasant 
places, 
The  same  dear  things  lift  up  the  same  fair  faces, 
The  violet  is  here. 

It  all  comes  back,  the  odor,  grace,  and  hue, 
Each  sweet  relation  of  its  life  repeated ; 
No  blank  is  left,  no  looking-for  is  cheated, 
It  is  the  thing  we  knew. 

So  after  death's  winter  it  must  be, 
God  will  not  put  strange  signs  in  heavenly  places, 
The  old  love  shall  look  out  from  the  old  faces, 
Veilchen !  I  shall  have  thee. 

Mrs.  a.  D.  T.  Whitney 
216 


WE   TWO 

AH,  painful-sweet !  how  CJtn  I  take  it  in! 
That  somewhere  in  the  illimitable  blue 
Of  God's  pure  space,  which  men  call  Heaven,  we 
two 
Again  shall  find  each  other,  and  begin 
The  infinite  life  of  love,  a  life  akin 
To  angels',  —  only  angels  never  knew 
The  ecstacy  of  blessedness  that  drew 
Us  each  to  each,  even  in  this  world  of  sin. 

Yea,  find  each  other  !     The  remotest  star 

Of  all  the  galaxies  would  hold  in  vain 
Our  souls  apart,  that  have  been  heretofore 
As  closely  interchangeable  as  are 

One  mind  and  spirit.     Oh,  joy  that  aches  to  pain. 

To  be  together  —  we  two  —  forever  more  ! 

Margaret  J.  Preston 

AT   END 

AT  end  of  Love,  at  end  of  Life, 
At  end  of  Hope,  at  end  of  Strife, 
At  end  of  all  we  cling  to  so,  — 
The  sun  is  setting  —  must  we  go  ? 

At  dawn  of  Love,  at  dawn  of  Life, 
At  dawn  of  Peace  that  follows  Strife, 
At  dawn  of  all  we  long  for  so,  — 
The  sun  is  rising  —  let  us  go  ! 

Louise  Chandler  Moulton 
217 


INDEX  TO   TITLES. 


I. 

PAGB 

Love  !  blessed  Love !  if  we  could  hang  our  walls    .  2 

Love 3 

Love 4 

For  life,  with  all  it  yields  of  joy  or  woe 4 

From  "  The  Book  of  Love  " 5 

Love's  Coming 5 

True  Love 6 

Oh,  Love  is  not  a  Summer  Mood 7 

From  "  The  Sea  of  Fire  "..... 7 

From  "The  Cotter's  Saturday  Night" 8 

True  Love 9 

A  Lover  with  his  Loved  One  sailed  the  Sea    ....  10 

Herein  is  Love 11 

Love  seeketh  not  itself  to  please 12 

A  Question 12 

A  Woman's  Shortcomings 13 

And  love .'' 14 

From  "Alice  of  Monmouth"    . 15 

II. 

No  life  is  so  strong  and  complete  . 18 

He  was  a  friend  indeed 18 

A  Friend 19 

219 


PAGE 

We  love  but  Few 20 

The  Girdle  of  Friendship 21 

Friendship 22 

O  near  Ones,  dear  Ones 23 

A  Tribute 24 

My  Kate 25 

III. 

Pour  out  thy  love  like  the  rush  of  a  river 30 

From  "  The  Message  of  an  ^olian  Harp,"  —  We  cannot 

love  too  much 31 

Learn  that  to  love  is  the  one  way  to  know 32 

Love  much 33 

Sonnet,  "Trust  me, —  I  have  not  earned  your  dear 

Rebuke" 34 

Go  forth  in  Life  not  seeking  Love 34 

Love's  Fulfilling 35 

What  shall  I  do  for  my  Love? 36 

Oh,  if  thou  be'st  True  Lover 37 

From  "  The  Castle  in  the  Air  " 37 

The  Sea-Shell 38 

Give  all  to  love 39 

IV. 

Am  I  not  the  nobler  through  thy  love  ?....•  42 

If  aught  can  make  me  seek 42 

Softly  the  Evening  Shadows 43 

Some  Lover's  dear  Thought 43 

A  Face 44 

From  "  The  Mistress  of  the  Manse  ".......  45 

To  Harriett 45 

From  "  The  Angel  in  the  House  " 46 

Friendship 47 

220 


rxGit 

God  measures  souls  by  their  capacity 47 

Happy  are  they  who  kiss  thee 48 

Love,  the  Musician 48 

A  Friendship .  49 

I  remember  the  only  wise  thing  I  ever  did 49 

In  the  Air 50 

All  true,  deep  feeling  purifies  the  heart 50 

Sonnet,  —  "  If  it  be  true  that  any  beauteous  thing  "     .  51 

Going  to  Church 51 

With  my  love  this  knowledge  too  was  given  ...  52 

V. 

I  meet  her  on  the  dusty  street 54 

I  loved  thee  for  that  dear,  deep  lovingness      ....  54 

Calais  Sands •     •     •  55 

Tying  her  Bonnet  under  her  Chin 56 

Love  on  Deck       58 

A  Red,  Red  Rose 59 

In  a  Gondola 60 

A  Nice  Correspondent 61 

The  Clover  Blossoms 63 

Annie  Laurie 64 

Under  the  Rose 65 

A  Love  Extravaganza 65 

The  Smile  of  her  I  love 66 

Love's  Prayer 66 

Love 67 

The  chords  of  love  must  be  strong  as  death    ....  68 

VI. 

I  love  you.     Words  are  small 70 

I  love  you.  Dear 71 

"I'm  sorry  that  I  spelt  the  word" 71 

221 


PAGB 

The  Sweetest  Flower  that  blows    . 72 

I  love  thee   . 72 

Song  from  a  Drama 73 

Measure  for  Measure  .     .    , 74 

Sonnet, — "O  my  heart's  heart  and  you  who  are  to 

me"     .... 75 

Because 75 

One  Face 77 

From  "The  Cup  of  Youth" 77 

A  Love  Symphony 78 

From  "  The  Ancestress "...          79 

Four  Words 80 

Urvasi 81 

Protestations 82 

From  "  The  Spanish  Student  " 83 

Benedicite 84 


VII. 

It  has  been  such  a  day  as  that  thou  knowest      ...  88 

Not  from  the  whole  wide  world  I  choose  thee  ...  88 

What  the  Rose  saw 89 

Lovers 90 

From  "  Life's  Mysteries  " 91 

From  "  The  Gardener's  Daughter  ".......  91 

Won't  You? 92 

Kiss  me  softly 92 

Proposal 93 

Four-Leaf  Clover 94 

Love's  Philosophy 95 

The  cup  of  love  the  hands  of  two  hold 95 

Indeed  I  love  thee 95 

From  "  Queen  Mary,"  —  The  Happiest  Hour    ...  96 

Evening  Song 96 

222 


VIII. 

PAGE 

A  weak  white  girl 98 

So   these   lives   that   had   run   thus   far  in  separate 

channels 98 

Marriage 99 

Happy,  happier  far  than  thou 99 

The  Little  Brown  Cabin 100 

Summer .  roc 

She  was  mine loi 

Home 102 

For  Thoughts 102 

The  Two  Anchors 103 

And  in  that  twilight  hush,  God  drew  their  hearts  ,     .  105 

For  there  are  two  heavens,  sweet 105 

On  a  Cyclamen 106 

From  "The  Hanging  of  the  Crane" 106 

Two  Lovers 107 

Where  we  love  is  home 108 


IX. 

0  lady,  there  be  many  things no 

Love  took  me  softly  by  the  Hand 1 1 1 

Something  the  heart  must  have  to  cherish     .     .     .     .  in 

1  know  myself  the  Best  Beloved  of  All 112 

Oh,  that  we  Two  were  Maying 112 

Three  Kisses •  "3 

With  what  a  graceful  tenderness  he  loves      .     .     •     .  113 

My  Letters 114 

May  and  Love 1 14 

From  "  In  the  Garden  " 115 

I  did  hear  you  talk ....  115 

223 


PAGB 

I  think  we  had  the  chief  of  all  love's  joys      ....  115 

Lovers 116 

Answer  to  a  Child's  Question 116 

Love  Notes 117 

Song  from  "  Piero  Da  Castiglione  " 117 

On  a  Clock 118 

Love's  Language 118 

There  is  a  glory  in  tree  and  blossom 1 19 

X. 

0  Life,  what  after-joy  hast  thou 122 

Nothing  is  better,  I  well  know 122 

Life  may  to  you  bring  every  good 122 

Life's  Gifts 123 

Eureka 123 

1  simply  say  that  she  is  good 124 

The  Song  of  the  Camp 125 

Love  is  the  only  good  in  the  world 126 

Gone 1 27 

Best 127 

Love's  light  is  strange  to  you.?     Ah,  me! 128 

An  Extravaganza 129 

The  Two  Loves 129 

Better  Things 131 

From  "  Katrina " 132 

Wedded 132 

Love's  Thread  of  Gold 133 

From  "  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel  " 134 

Love  among  the  Ruins .  134 

From  "  The  Children  of  the  Lord's  Supper  "...  138 

Eros 138 

The  gate  of  Heaven  is  Love 138 


224 


XI. 

PAGtC 

He  sang  out  of  his  soul  what  he  found  there      .     .     .  140 

Love  is  not  to  be  reasoned  down  or  lost 140 

I  never  knew  it,  Love,  till  now 141 

Love  scorns  Degrees 141 

The  Last  Letter 142 

For  they  alone  have  need  of  sorrow 143 

All  the  Year  Round 144 

Love  and  Life 144 

The  Heart's  Call 145 

My  Jean 146 

From  "  Harold  " 147 

Ah,  Love!  let  us  be  true 148 

From  "  Evangeline  " 149 

Love's  Final  Powers 149 

From  "  Artevelde  " 150 

I  cannot  tell  the  spell  that  binds  thine  image     .     .     .  150 

xn. 

Too  full  of  love  my  soul  is  to  find  place 152 

I  do  not  love  thee  less  for  what  is  done 152 

Two  Truths 153 

At  Noon  and  Midnight 153 

Our  Own 154 

A  Letter »     .    -  155 

We  kissed  again  with  Tears 156 

Forgiven 157 

It  isn't  the  thing  you  do,  dear 157 

Her  fittest  triumph  is  to  show  that  good 158 

XIII. 

Not  to  be  with  you,  not  to  see  your  face 160 

O  friend !  O  best  of  friends !     Thy  absence  more  .     .  160 
15                                              22s 


PAGE 

Gone i6i 

From  "  Michael  Angelo  " i6i 

Absence 162 

The  Boat  of  my  Lover 163 

The  Loved  One  Ever  Near .     .     .     ; 164 

But  oh  1  't  was  hard  to  have  him  go,  —  to  know     .     .  164 

Among  the  Heather 165 

They  Parted 165 

Good-by,  Sweetheart 166 

O  Days  and  Hours.     ..." 167 

Parting  Words 168 

Words  for  Parting 168 


XIV. 

Thither  where  he  lies  buried 172 

Peace,  wild-wrung  hands  1  hush,  sobbing  breath !  .     .  172 

The  Wedding  Veil 173 

Scotch  Heather 174 

The  Two  Locks  of  Hair 175 

A  Shadow 177 

Rondel 178 


XV. 

Think  not  in  death  my  love  could  ever  cease    .     .     .  180 

There  is  hope  that  is  never  put  by 180 

The  Unwise  Choice 181 

A  Woman's  Death-Wound 182 

A  Woman's  Thought 183 

Burnt  Ships 184 

Presage 185 

226 


XVI. 

PAGE 

Perhaps  it  will  all  come  right  at  last i88 

A  Life  Lesson 189 

I  cannot  think  but  God  must  know 190 

Divided      . 191 

I  hear  a  Dear,  Familiar  Tone 191 

From  "  Evangeline  " "♦  192 

Which  is  Best 193 

Thomless  Roses 195 

I  have  the  Courage  to  be  Gay 196 

What  Sequel  ? 196 

Naught  is  the  same  "  as  if  Love  had  not  been  "    .     .  196 


XVII. 

Love  is  come  with  a  song  and  a  smile 198 

In  Twos 199 

She  was  sent  forth 200 

Song 201 

Together 201 

From  "  Enoch  Arden  " 202 

Two  Epochs 203 

XVIII. 

O  winds !  ye  are  too  rough,  too  rough 206 

Love  and  Death 207 

After-Song 207 

From  "The  Singer" 208 

From  "  Snow-Bound  " 208 

Three  Meetings 209 

Love  is  Eternal 210 

There  will  I  ask  of  Christ  the  Lord 210 

227 


fAfife 

A  Farewell 211 

From  "  To  Lydia  Maria  Child  " 212 

O  Love  and  Death 212 

Not  Death  is  strong  enough  to  part  asunder     .    .     .  212 

He  and  She 213 

The  Violet . 216 

We  Two 217 

At  End 217 


228 


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